GELETT  BURGESS 


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Chester,"   she   cried,    "take   me."    Page 


THE  WHITE  CAT 


By 
GELETT  BURGESS 


Author  of  Vivette 

A  Little  Sister  of  Destiny 

etc. 


With  Illustrations  by 

WILL  GREFfi 


NEW    YORK 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT  1907 
THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 

MARCH 


PART  FIRST 


912797 


THE  WHITE  CAT 


I  came  to  myself  with  a  disturbing  sense 
that  something  was  wrong  with  me.  My  dis- 
comfort, increasing  steadily,  resolved  itself 
into  two  distinct  factors — a  pain  in  my  side 
at  every  breath  and  a  throbbing  ache  in  the 
top  of  my  head.  I  realized  that  I  was  in  bed, 
and  the  first  strangeness  of  it  struck  me.  I 
could  not  account  for  it.  The  wild,  spicy 
odor  of  flowers  came  to  me,  adding  to  my 
perplexity.  Then  I  opened  my  eyes. 

The  place  was  so  dimly  lighted  that  for 
some  seconds  my  sluggish  wits  were  unable 
to  interpret  the  blotches  of  shadow  and  the 
vague  glimmering  spots.  These,  however, 
gradually  resolved  themselves  into  compre- 
hensible forms.  I  perceived  that  I  was  in 
a  strange  room,  large  and  airy;  for  even  in 

3 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

the  obscurity  I  got  a  feeling  of  free,  clean 
space,  and  of  that  chaste  emptiness  which  is 
apt  to  distinguish  the  guest-chamber  of  a 
well-kept  house.  I  heard,  now,  the  steady, 
deliberate  ticking  of  a  clock  a  little  way  off, 
and  somewhere  below  was  a  small  grinding 
sound,  so  low  as  to  be  almost  a  mere  vibra- 
tion, like  a  coffee-mill  in  operation.  Near 
by,  a  door  closed  and  latched  softly. 

I  moved  and  attempted  to  sit  up,  but  a 
sharp  stab  in  my  side  warned  me  that  my 
hurt  was  perhaps  more  serious  than  I  had 
thought.  There  was  a  lump  on  my  head,  too, 
which  probably  accounted  for  my  lapse  of 
consciousness. 

Setting  my  memory  painfully  to  work, 
groping  back  through  the  darkness  of  my 
mind  for  something  to  explain  the  mystery, 
much  as  one  might  descend  a  dark,  unlighted 
stairway,  I  came  upon  the  last  fact  that  had 
been  recorded  by  my  brain.  I  had  been  put- 
ting on  speed — the  road  through  the  woods 
was  straight,  level  and  deserted — hoping  to 
get  up  to  town  early  in  the  afternoon.  The 

4 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

steering-gear  of  my  motor-car  had  given 
way.  I  had  felt  the  wheels  suddenly  veer, 
then,  before  I  put  on  my  brake,  the  front  of 
the  car  went  down  and  the  rear  was  thrown 
up  and  over  with  the  momentum,  sending  me 
flying  through  the  air. 

I  wondered,  lazily,  how  much  the  machine 
had  suffered.  Then,  I  must  have  dropped 
off  to  sleep  again,  for  when  I  next  opened 
my  eyes  there  was  a  flickering  ray  of  light  in 
the  room.  This  time  I  was  keenly  alert  men- 
tally, desirous  of  some  explanation  of  my 
situation.  Where  was  I,  and  who  had  cared 
for  me? 

The  light  grew  brighter,  still  wavering, 
slanting  across  the  wall  where  it  rocked  and 
shifted,  casting  long,  distorted  shadows  that 
danced  up  and  down.  Some  one  was  evi- 
dently coming  up-stairs  with  a  light.  The 
door  was  hidden  by  a  projecting  angle  of  the 
wall,  however,  and  so  for  a  few  moments  I 
saw  nobody. 

In  those  seconds  the  room  was  illuminated 
gradually  more  and  more,  showing  a  white- 

5 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

painted  wainscot  with  a  dull  green  wall 
above,  where  a  few  Japanese  prints  hung. 
Opposite  my  bed  was  a  window  with  small, 
old-fashioned  panes;  there  was  another  be- 
side me.  The  rays  glinted  on  the  polished 
sides  of  several  pieces  of  old  mahogany 
furniture  and  flared  yellow  on  brass  candle- 
sticks and  on  the  gilded  frame  of  an  eagle 
mirror.  Finally  the  glare  stopped  its  un- 
dulating, the  shadows  grew  steadier  on  the 
wall,  and,  as  I  gazed  eagerly  for  a  first 
glimpse  of  my  visitor,  a  young  woman,  bear- 
ing a  silver  candlestick,  came  into  the  room. 
She  looked  immediately  over  to  where  I 
lay,  and  then,  catching  my  surprised  stare, 
her  expression  changed  wonderfully  from  a 
rather  pathetic  abstraction  to  an  animated 
interest.  With  something  not  quite  a  smile 
on  her  face  she  walked  nearer  my  bed,  and 
stood  for  a  moment  without  speaking,  still 
looking  at  me.  Her  attitude  hinted  that  she 
saw  in  me  something — as  if,  for  instance,  it 
were  a  sort  of  picturesqueness  which  was 
unexpected  enough  to  appeal  to  her  imagina- 

6 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

tion.     She  rested  for  a  moment,  poised  and 
calm,  but  intensely  attentive,  fascinated. 

And  I,  at  the  same  time,  was  instantly 
conscious  of  so  curious  a  sentiment  that  I 
must  stop  to  attempt  to  describe  it. 

I  conceived  myself  to  be  a  connoisseur  in 
women,  and  I  estimated  her  at  first  sight  'as 
one  unique,  even  extraordinary.  But 
though  to  my  mind  she  was  indubitably 
beautiful,  it  was  not  her  beauty  that  for  the 
moment  thrilled  me.  It  was  chiefly  her 
"newness,"  the  very  novelty  of  her  visita- 
tion. I  felt  a  sudden,  compelling  desire  to 
prolong  the  mystery  of  her  presence  rather 
than  to  have  it  explained.  I  tried,  mentally, 
to  delay  her  first  word,  to  hold  her  back 
from  any  definite  explanation  till  my  eyes  had 
had  their  fill  of  her — till  they  had,  so  to 
speak,  solved  her  equation — till  my  wonder 
had  spent  itself  in  the  vision,  exhausting  all 
its  possibilities  of  delight.  Her  charm  was, 
in  its  unexpectedness,  so  alluring,  that  she 
was  like  a  pleasant  dream  which  one  lingers 
with  and  detains. 

7 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

She  was  small,  but  her  head  was  so  ex- 
quisitely proportioned  to  her  body  that  one 
did  not  notice  her  size.  I  have  called  her 
young,  though  she  was  twenty-seven,  for 
her  graceful  figure  and  pose  were  still  girl- 
ishly maintained.  The  shape  of  her  small 
head  was  defined  by  a  quaint  coiffure,  the 
dark,  fine  hair  being  banded  in  an  encircling 
plait  up  past  her  tiny  ears  and  over,  like  a 
coronal,  showing  a  sweeping  high-bred  curve 
over  her  low  brow.  All  this  gave  her  a  ten- 
der, virginal  aspect ;  but  her  soft,  deep  brown 
eyes  were  so  saddened  by  warm  shadows  be- 
low the  lids,  her  mouth  was  so  tremulously 
sensitive,  with  its  slightly  parted  lips,  and 
the  little  lines  that  women  fear  had  begun  to 
write  her  history  so  suggestively  upon  her 
face,  that,  as  I  gazed  at  her,  I  saw  a  woman 
who  had  lived  and  suffered,  a  woman  as  in- 
tense as  she  was  delicate  in  all  her  moods. 

She  was  clad  in  a  bewilderingly  feminine 

peignoir  of  lace  and  embroidery,  open  at  the 

neck,     and     covered     with     another     long, 

straightly  hanging  garment  of  shimmering 

8 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

pale-green  silk,  richly  decorated  with  odd 
patterns.  This  gave  her  to  my  wondering 
eyes  quite  the  appearance  of  a  medieval 
princess,  or  the  heroine  of  some  old  fairy 
tale.  The  impression  was  intensified  by  the 
long  chain  she  wore,  set  with  fire  opals  which 
flashed  in  the  candle-light.  From  it,  below 
her  waist,  there  hung  a  golden  star. 

And,,  strangest  of  all,  most  provocative  to 
my  fancy,  she  also  appeared,  with  extraordi- 
nary sympathy,  almost  with  prescience,  to 
feel  something  of  my  wonder  as  she  paused 
and  stood  silent,  retarding  her  greeting,  in 
answer  to  my  unspoken  thought.  While  our 
eyes  held  each  other  in  that  marvelous  com- 
munion, she  did  not  smile;  it  was  rather  from 
her  quivering  mouth  that  I  got  the  idea  that 
she,  too,  was  touched  by  the  spell,  and  was 
keenly  alive  to  the  potentiality  of  the  situa- 
tion. She  seemed  to  hold  her  breath  lest  the 
wonder  should  pass  too  soon. 

That  moment  was  as  sublimely  unreal  as 
anything  I  have  ever  known,  and,  within  its 
unmeasurable  limits,  as  potent.  It  was  tense, 

9 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

instinct  with  fine,  secret  emotions  too  faint 
for  analysis.  Messages  came  and  went,  elec- 
tric. It  was,  in  short,  the  psychological  mo- 
ment that  comes  but  once  to  any  friendship, 
and,  coming,  is  usually  hurried  past  without 
appreciation  of  its  mysterious  charm.  It 
was  that  most  suggestive  of  preludes,  an  in- 
stinctive, conscious  pause  upon  the  magic 
threshold  of  Romance.  That  she  felt  its 
quality  also  overpowered  me.  The  minute 
passed  like  a  falling  star,  and  in  its  glory  we 
seemed  to  travel  miles  together. 

Then,  with  a  visible  effort,  she  spoke. 

Her  voice  was  light  and  clear,  so  expres- 
sively modulated  that  I  have,  despite  myself, 
to  compare  it  only  to  fairy  footsteps  passing 
over  flower-tops.  Its  tones  poised  and  hov- 
ered as  if  on  the  wing,  though  they  were  as 
sure  as  the  melody  of  an  old  song.  It  was, 
above  all  else,  graceful,  and  usually  it  held  a 
trace  of  mental  eagerness,  but  its  character- 
istic quality  came  more  from  delicate  nuances 
of  feeling  than  from  any  vibrant  intensity. 
It  had  the  fluidity  of  running  water. 
10 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

With  her  first  word  she  smiled,  and  some 
of  the  melancholy  escaped  from  her  eyes. 

"Oh,  you  are  better  now!    I'm  so  glad!" 

The  silver  thread  of  magic  that  had  bound 
as  was  broken,  and  the  episode  became  real 
and  humorous  on  the  instant.  I  could  not 
help  smiling  in  my  turn,  for  assuredly,  from 
my  point  of  view,  I  was,  physically,  decidedly 
the  worse.  I  took  it  from  her,  by  her  re- 
mark, that  I  had  been  ill. 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  "I  suppose  I  must  be 
better,  since  you  say  so,  but  I  seem  to  be 
quite  bad  enough.  How  long  have  I  been 
here!  " 

"Twenty-four  hours.  You  have  been  a 
little  delirious,  you  know.  I  was  getting 
quite  anxious  about  you,  though  the  doctor 
said  there  was  no  danger." 

She  came  nearer,  and  put  her  small  beau- 
tiful hand  upon  my  cheek.  I  noticed  that 
she  wore  no  rings.  The  touch  of  her  fingers 
was  soft  and  cool. 

"I'm  glad  your  fever  has  gone,"  she  said, 
"Have  you  much  pain?" 
11 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

I  felt  sore  all  over,  and  there  was  trouble 
with  my  side  when  I  moved ;  my  head  seemed 
to  be  splitting.  But  I  was  so  much  more  in- 
terested in  her,  and  how  I  came  to  be  there, 
that  I  dismissed  my  symptoms  with  a  shrug, 
and  asked  what  had  happened. 

"You  were  thrown  from  your  automo- 
bile, "  she  said,  "and  you  were  pretty  badly 
shaken  up.  There  was  a  rib  broken,  and  a 
slight  concussion  of  the  brain,  I  believe,  but 
nothing  serious.  You'll  have  to  stay  here 
several  days,  at  least,  and  keep  quiet.  Doc- 
tor Copin  had  to  go  back  to  town,  and  I  must 
notify  him  that  you  are  all  right  now.  You 
mustn't  fret  about  it,  for  you  are  perfectly 
welcome  to  stay  here  and  it  won't  trouble  us 
in  the  least.  Only  I'm  afraid  you'll  be  ter- 
ribly bored.  It's  quiet  here,  and  I'll  be 
rather  dull  company." 

"I'm  not  worrying,  I  assure  you,"  I  said. 
"I'm  in  no  hurry  to  get  well." 

She  smiled  again,  faintly  but  with  a  quick 
appreciation,  and  took  a  seat  in  an  arm-chair 
which  stood  beside  my  bed.  I  caught  a 
12 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

glimpse  of  a  green  silk  stocking  and  an  ex- 
quisitely small  foot  in  a  fantastically  shaped 
slipper.  She  went  on: 

*  '  I  have  been  a  good  deal  troubled  because 
we  have,  of  course,  no  idea  who  you  are.  I 
was  afraid  that  some  of  your  friends  might 
be  alarmed  about  you.  So,  if  there  is  any 
one  we  can  notify,  or  send  for,  give  me  the 
address  and  the  message,  and  I'll  send  it  over 
to  the  telegraph  office  at  the  Harbor,  or  I  can 
telephone  for  you,  if  there 's  any  one  in  town. 
Doctor  Copin  could  call  and  explain  your 
condition,  if  you  prefer. ' ' 

As  she  leaned  her  face  on  her  slender  hand 
and  looked  at  me,  she  added:  "Your  motor 
has  been  taken  care  of,  so  you  needn't  worry 
about  that.  Uncle  Jerdon  hauled  it  into 
the  stable,  and  it  can  stay  there  until  you 
have  a  chance  to  have  it  repaired." 

"You  were  good  to  take  me  in  and  to  get 
a  doctor,"  I  said,  watching  the  tiny  vertical 
lines  come  and  go  in  her  forehead. 

"Oh,  Doctor  Copin  happened  to  be  with 
me  when  you  were  brought  in  by  Uncle 
13 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

Jerdon.    I  really  don't  know  how  you  man- 
aged to  escape  with  your  life." 

"I  didn't  deserve  to  escape.  I  was  run- 
ning considerably  over  the  speed  limit,  I 
imagine.  I  wanted  to  get  back  to  town 
early."  How  much  rather  would  I  have  dis- 
cussed the  queer  little  corners  of  her  lips 
that  changed  so  distractingly,  and  the  trans- 
parent shadow  under  her  cheek-bone  that 
spiritualized  her  whole  expression  now  and 
again ! 

"Oh,  I  must  take  your  message!"  she  ex- 
claimed, a  little  embarrassed  by  the  pause 
that  had  fallen. 

She  rose  and  went  over  to  an  antique  sec- 
retary, bringing  back  a  pad  of  paper  and  a 
pencil.  Eeseating  herself,  she  waited  for 
me  to  dictate.  I  thought  a  while  and  then 
gave  her  a  short  report  of  my  condition  to  be 
sent  to  my  partner.  Having  written  this 
down  she  went  out  of  the  room  quietly,  leav- 
ing the  candle  with  me.  No  sooner  had  she 
left  than  my  pain  returned.  For  the  time  I 
had  forgotten  all  about  it. 
14 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

In  spite  of  this,  the  thought  of  her  filled  me 
with  a  restful  peace.  I  didn't  in  the  least 
want  to  know  who  she  was,  so  long  as  I  might 
see  her,  and  hear  her  talk  to  me  in  that 
smooth,  melodious,  eager  voice,  whose  sound 
had  established  her  convincingly  as  a  lady  of 
rare  promise.  The  prospect  of  having  to 
spend  several  days  in  her  society,  or  at  least 
near  her,  was  as  pleasant  a  thought  as  I  could 
well  imagine.  The  fruit  of  our  moment  was 
a  mystery,  rich  and  fragrant,  which  I  wished 
only  not  to  destroy.  I  found  myself  trying, 
in  her  absence,  to  recall  each  feature  of  her 
face,  her  poses,  and  her  hands  so  keenly  alive 
and  full  of  graceful  gesture.  That  I  did  not 
wonder  who  she  was — what  was  her  name, 
her  situation,  her  history — came,  perhaps, 
from  the  state  of  bodily  weakness  in  which 
my  accident  had  left  me,  but  it  seemed  to  me 
then  that  it  was  not  merely  the  passivity  of 
my  physical  state ;  it  was  an  epicurean  joy  I 
took  in  tasting  my  impressions  drop  by  drop. 

Meanwhile,  as  I  thought  it  all  over,  my 
eyes  wandered  over  that  part  of  the  room 
15 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

visible  in  the  candle-light,  from  the  four- 
posted  bed  in  which  I  lay,  and  almost  uncon- 
sciously I  noted  the  many  evidences  of  taste 
and  wealth.  The  furniture  was  all  of  an- 
tique style,  undoubtedly  genuine  specimens 
of  the  best  designs  of  the  later  colonial 
period. 

The  Japanese  prints  were  the  only  pic- 
tures visible  that  I  could  see.  They  seemed 
like  Utamaro's  and  Hiroshige's  mostly, 
though  near  by  were  a  couple  of  Yoshitora's 
and  Toyokuni's  brilliant  actresses,  veritable 
riots  of  color  against  the  dull  green  of  the 
wall.  The  floor  was  of  oak  parquetry,  cov- 
ered with  Persian  rugs  of  what  I  knew  to  be 
rare  weaves.  Altogether,  the  room  had,  in 
its  severe  formal  way,  the  dignity  of  a  mu- 
seum. 

She  came  back,  after  about  ten  minutes, 
with  a  tray  of  toast  and  tea,  a  jar  of  Bar-le- 
duc,  and  the  most  appetizing  of  lamb  chops. 

"Do  you  feel  hungry f "  she  asked,  setting 
the  tray  down  upon  a  stand  at  the  head  of 
the  bed. 

16 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

As  I  .assented  most  heartily,  she  leaned 
over  and  propped  the  pillows  up  behind  my 
back,  and  then  set  the  silver  salver  before 
me  on  the  spread.  Drawing  up  her  chair, 
she  sat  down  near  enough  to  pour  the  tea  and 
hand  me  what  else  I  required.  As  she  did  so 
I  noted  the  delicate  way  she  held  everything 
she  touched — her  fingers  slightly  parted  na- 
turally, curling  like  an  acanthus  leaf. 

"Yon  say  that  I  have  been  out  of  my 
head?"  I  began. 

"Yes,  at  intervals,  since  yesterday  after- 
noon." 

"I  dimly  remember  it,  now.  Yes,  it  was 
curious.  Somehow,  though,  it  seems  to  me 
that  there  were  two  women  here,  though 
never  at  the  same  time,  I  think — but  no 
doubt  I  got  it  all  mixed  up. ' ' 

She  looked  down  quickly,  as  if  confused, 
but  she  replied,  "Oh,  it  must  have  been  Leah, 
—  the  other  one.  She's  my  maid;  or,  per- 
haps, rather  more  my  companion.  You  must 
see  her.  I  think  she's  wonderful.  I  wonder 
if  you  will!  "  She  made  the  last  remark 
17 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

under  her  breath,  as  if  she  spoke  to  herself 
rather  than  to  me. 

She  went  to  the  door  and  called,  "Leah!" 
|  So  few  persons  can  raise  their  voices  pretti- 
ly, that  I  was  delighted  to  hear  it  sound  as 
musical  as  when  she  spoke  to  me.  As  she 
returned,  the  light  shone  on  her  soft-flowing, 
silken  gown,  making  it  loo'k  like  frosted  sil- 
ver. In  a  few  moments  Leah  entered  the 
room,  bearing  a  lighted  lamp. 

I  was  surprised,  I  confess,  after  what  my 
hostess  had  said,  perhaps  as  a  test  of  my  sen- 
sibility, to  see  that  the  maid  was  a  negress, 
but,  after  giving  her  my  first  glance,  I  was 
still  more  surprised  to  see  that  she  was  of  a 
kind  one  seldom  sees,  the  best  type,  in  fact, 
of  Northern  negro.  As  she  approached  us 
she  had  the  bearing  of  a  woman  of  great  re- 
finement and  a  face  which,  though  uncom- 
promisingly dark,  showed  an  extraordinary 
mental  if  not  moral  caste.  Her  skin  was  a 
warm  brown,  something  of  the  color  of  a 
Samoan,  though  more  reddish  than  mulatto 
in  tinge.  This,  I  found  afterward,  was  the 
18 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

result  of  a  remote  crossing  with  American 
Indian  blood ;  it  was  just  enough  to  enrich  the 
color,  and  to  keep  down  some  of  the  ne- 
groid fullness  of  the  lips  and  modify  the 
orispness  of  her  curling  hair.  Leah  might, 
indeed,  be  considered  beautiful;  what  could 
not,  at  least,  be  denied,  was  the  impression 
of  character  which  was  stamped  upon  her. 
It  was  patent  in  her  face,  her  carriage  and 
her  voice.  I  watched  her  in  admiration. 
There  was  a  neatness  and  an  immaculate 
cleanness  about  her,  and  I  could  easily  un- 
derstand how  my  hostess  might  regard  her 
as  a  friend. 

Leah's  affection  for  her  mistress  was  evi- 
dent by  the  sympathetic  manner  in  which  she 
listened,  and  by  the  softness  of  her  look 
when  her  eyes  fell  on  my  hostess.  There 
was  in  that  look  more  than  the  traditional 
fondness  of  a  negro  "mammy"  for  her 
charge.  I  felt  immediately  one  of  those 
quick  reactions  one  sometimes  has  with  serv- 
ants, or  with  other  persons  whom  social  cus- 
toms have  relegated  to  a  conventionally 
19 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

inferior  position.  It  was  a  case  of  spiritual 
noblesse  oblige.  Seeing  her  so  fine,  so  sen- 
sitive, so  tactful,  I  was  myself  put  uncon- 
sciously upon  my  best  behavior.  I  could  not 
forget  this  in  any  look  or  any  word  I  gave 
her.  I  was  constantly  watching  myself  lest 
I,  a  guest,  a  man  of  a  dominant  race,  should, 
in  consideration  and  in  delicacy,  fall  behind 
this  servant,  this  negress.  It  was  a  curious 
delicacy  she  seemed  to  enforce. 

I  can  give  this  effect  of  Leah  upon  me,  but  it 
is  not  so  easy  to  describe  the  cause.  She  ef- 
faced herself,  she  kept  her  place  rarely.  But 
with  all  this,  she  radiated — she  had  a  potent 
personality.  She  put  down  the  lamp,  she 
straightened  the  covers  of  my  bed,  answered 
a  few  questions,  speaking  in  a  rich  contralto 
voice,  and  went  out.  That  was  all.  But  in 
those  few  moments  she  had  impressed  me. 

It  was,  no  doubt,  because  of  my  enjoyment 
in  watching,  silently,  what  went  on,  that  gave 
my  companion  the  idea  that  I  was  exhausted. 
She  apparently  inferred  that  I  wished  to  be 
left  alone,  and,  rising,  she  took  the  tray  from 
20 


THE    WHITE    CAT, 

my  lap  and  set  it  down  while  she  readjusted 
my  pillows.  Then,  removing  a  little  silver 
Nuremberg  bell,  she  took  up  the  tray  again, 
and  rose  to  leave  me. 

"I'll  leave  the  bell  here  at  the  head  of 
your  bed,  Mr.  Castle, "  she  said  (she  had 
learned  my  name,  of  course,  when  she  took 
my  message),  "and  Leah  will  be  glad  to  do 
anything  for  you  that  you  wish." 

As  she  turned,  she  looked  back,  smiling. 

"Oh,  I  haven't  told  you  my  own  name,  yet, 
have  I?  I'm  Miss  Fielding — Joy  Fielding. 
There's  nobody  here  but  Leah  and  me,  ex- 
cept Uncle  Jerdon,  our  man-of-all-work,  and 
King,  the  Chinaman.  Midmeadows  is  a  lone- 
ly place,  though  it's  lovely  in  the  summer. 
Well,  I  hope  you'll  be  able  to  sleep  well,  and 
be  much  better  in  the  morning.  I'll  hope  to 
see  you  then.  Good  night."  She  left  me 
after  placing  the  lamp  just  out  of  sight. 

Later,   Leah   entered,  bringing  me   some 

books  to  read,  in  case  I  should  be  wakeful. 

I  dipped  into  them  all  immediately,  seeking 

for  further  evidence  of  Miss  Fielding's  taste. 

21 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

One  was  of  poems,  one  of  essays,  one  of  short 
stories,  and  one  a  novel. 

The  house  was  silent.  I  heard  nothing 
until  quite  late,  when  the  two  women  came 
up-stairs  to  retire.  By  their  voices  and  foot- 
steps, I  made  out  that  Leah  slept  in  the  room 
next  to  mine,  and  Miss  Fielding  across  the 
hall,  farther  off.  There  was  some  soft  con- 
versation, Leah's  voice  deep  and  rich,  Miss 
Fielding's  rising  several  notes  above,  always 
with  that  fluttering,  delicate  quality  which  I 
had  noticed.  Then  the  doors  closed,  and  I 
heard  nothing  more  except,  somewhere  be- 
low, a  heavy  rhythmic  snoring  which  I  as- 
sumed came  from  Uncle  Jerdon's  room. 

There  came  to  me  now  one  of  those  weary, 
irksome  vigils  of  the  sick,  when  the  darkness 
and  the  pain  seem  to  cooperate  to  stretch  out 
the  hours  to  infinite  lengths.  I  tried  one  po- 
sition and  another,  I  lighted  the  candle  and 
put  it  out  again,  but  my  discomfort  and  my 
sleeplessness  persisted.  I  could  think  of 
nothing  else  but  Joy  Fielding,  Joy  Fielding, 
Joy  Fielding!  I  think  that  a  little  of  my  de- 
22 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

lirium  returned,  also ;  but  all  through  my  tor- 
ment I  kept  repeating  to  myself  that  I  did 
not  want  to  know  who  she  was.  I  refused  to 
speculate  upon  that,  except  in  ways  that  were 
romantic  and  fantastic.  "What  matter-of- 
fact,  commonplace  explanation  of  her  life 
there  might  be,  I  wanted  to  hold  off  as  long 
as  possible. 


23 


n 

I  was  awakened  early  by  the  sunshine 
which  came  pouring  across  my  bed  from  the 
window  opposite,  lighting  up  the  white  wains- 
coting and  showing  the  room  now,  clean  and 
brightly  distinct  to  the  least  detail  of  the 
crisp  Japanese  prints  upon  the  wall. 

One  sash  and  the  window-shade  had  been 
left  up,  and  I  could  see  the  slope  of  a  hill 
which  rose  behind  the  house,  seeming  to  shut 
the  place  in.  The  other  window  was  filled 
with  the  waving  boughs  of  an  apple-tree. 
The  day  was  fine  and  balmy ;  the  fresh  air  of 
the  morning  swept  deliciously  over  my  bed. 
It  was  maddening  to  have  to  lie  there  help- 
less. 

Before  long  I  heard  doors  opening  and  clos- 
ing below,  and  the  sounds  of  preparations 
for  breakfast — the  rattling  of  a  stove,  a 
pump  that  squeaked  whimsically  like  a  bray- 
24 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

ing  donkey,  the  clatter  of  pots  and  pans, 
and  a  Chinaman's  voice  singing  in  a  queer 
falsetto.  With  the  odors  of  flowers  and  damp 
earth  the  smell  of  coffee  came  up  to  me,  min- 
gled, too,  with  a  whiff  from  the  stable.  Then 
the  clock,  whose  hourly  chimes  had  measured 
for  me  the  slow  march  of  the  night,  struck 
seven  with  a  peal  of  golden  notes. 

I  heard  footsteps  come  up-stairs  to  the  hall 
outside  my  half  opened  door.  There  was  a 
soft  tapping  across  the  way,  and  Leah's  voice 
asked  quietly: 

"What  would  you  like  for  breakfast,  Miss 
Joy?" 

I  could  just  make  out  the  reply  in  Miss 
Fielding's  blithe  tones: 

"Oh,  just  a  couple  of  butterflies'  wings, 
Leah,  and  a  drop  of  rose-dew,  please." 

How  prettily  it  sounded !  From  another  it 
might  have  seemed  silly  to  me,  but  not  from 
her.  I  was  amused  at  her  fancy.  Miss 
Fielding,  then,  was  a  poet.  It  was  all  so  in 
key  with  the  freshness  of  the  morning  and 
the  gay  sweet  sunshine! 
25 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

I  was  more  comfortable  now,  and  more 
sane.  So,  as  I  lay  awaiting  her,  I  wondered 
how  such  a  woman,  so  instinct  with  refine- 
ment and  with  the  air  of  having  had  consid- 
erable social  experience,  was  to  be  found  in 
so  far-away  a  place.  I  knew  of  no  residences 
in  this  vicinity  except  an  occasional  farm- 
house ;  it  was  remote  even  from  any  village. 
The  sight  of  her  as  she  appeared  last  night 
in  her  elegant  negligee  came  back  to  me,  like 
the  scene  of  a  play.  I  longed  to  see  her  again, 
to  discover  if,  perhaps,  I  had  not  exagger- 
ated it  all,  or  even,  perhaps,  had  dreamed  of 
one  so  exquisitely  gracious. 

Leah,  also,  was  a  part  of  the  strangeness. 
She  had  none  of  the  disturbing  beauty  of  the 
quadroon — her  beauty  was  without  diablerie, 
it  was  far  from  showing  any  sensuality.  It 
was  even  spiritual  in  type.  Her  face,  as  I 
brought  it  up,  was  more  than  intelligent,  it 
was  lighted  by  an  inward  vision.  The  more  I 
thought  of  'her,  the  more  I  wondered  if  I  had 
not  been  tricked  by  my  impressionability,  by 
the  strangeness  of  my  adventure,  by  the  gla- 
26 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

mour  of  the  night  awakening.  To  put  it  io  the 
test,  I  took  advantage  of  Miss  Fielding's 
suggestion  and  rang  the  hell. 

Leah  appeared  in  a  few  moments,  and  came 
a  little  shyly  into  the  room.  She  wore  a 
clean,  fresh,  crisp  gown  of  blue,  like  a  hospi- 
tal nurse's  uniform,  and  was  as  trim  and 
dignified.  No,  I  had  not  heen  mistaken. 
The  light  of  day  showed  her  still  more  re- 
markable than  I  had  remembered.  Her 
regular  features,  her  smooth,  coffee-colored 
skin,  her  well-kept  shapely  hands,  all  testi- 
fied to  an  extraordinary  breeding. 

"Are  you  ready  for  your  breakfast,  sir?" 
she  asked.  Her  voice  was  like  honey  as  she 
inquired  how  I  had  passed  the  night,  and 
apologized  for  Uncle  Jerdon's  snoring. 

"I'll  bring  your  water  first,"  she  suggest- 
ed, and  retired  noiselessly,  to  return  in  a 
moment  with  a  bowl,  some  towels  and  toilet 
articles. 

She  seemed  a  little  embarrassed  by  the 
situation,  but  assisted  me  in  sitting  up. 
Then,  finding  that  I  could  do  for  myself  well 
27 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

enough,  she  went  down-stairs,  and  by  the 
time  I  had  finished  my  washing,  she  was  back 
with  the  tray. 

"'Miss  Joy  will  be  in  to  see  you  in  a  little 
while,  sir,"  she  said  as  she  made  me  com- 
fortable with  dexterous  adjustments  of  my 
pillows. 

But  for  her  "sir,"  she  had  in  no  way  acted 
as  a  servant,  though,  on  the  other  hand,  she 
had  assumed  no  attitude  of  equality.  I  could 
not  help  admiring  the  fine  neutrality  she 
maintained  without  committing  herself  to 
either  role.  All  my  first  impressions  of  her 
were  intensified  by  this  demeanor,  and  I 
awaited  the  opportunity  of  assuring  her  by 
my  own  manner  of  my  lack  of  prejudice  on 
account  of  her  color.  Indeed,  it  was  not  long 
before  I  was  almost  as  unconscious  of  it,  so 
far  as  any  social  distinction  was  concerned, 
as  a  child  might  have  been. 

Miss  Fielding  came  in  a  little  later,  dewy 
and  shining,  dressed  all  in  white — an  em- 
broidered linen  blouse  and  a  short  skirt  of 
serge,  which  made  her  seem  even  younger 
28 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

than  I  had  remembered.  The  sight  of  her 
expressive,  thoughtful,  eager  face,  and  the 
music  in  her  sympathetic  voice  gave  my  room 
quite  another  aspect.  It  became  a  stage 
again  where  last  night's  drama  would  go  on. 
How  long  I  had  waited  for  her,  and  now  she 
was  come!  Only  an  invalid,  perhaps,  can 
understand  the  difference  in  atmosphere  in 
that  first  quick  sight  of  an  expected  delight- 
ful presence  to  one  who  has  waited  for  the 
weary  hours  to  go  by  and  bring  the  wished- 
for  vision. 

She  made  a  few  kind  inquiries  as  to  my 
condition,  moving  meanwhile  about  the  room, 
disposing  of  the  fresh  roses  she  had  brought, 
lowering  the  window-sashes  and  raising  the 
shades,  rapid  and  graceful  as  a  bird  on  the 
wing.  She  was  all  modern,  now;  the  me- 
dieval princess  had  given  place  to  something 
more  complex,  and  as  much  more  interesting. 
Every  word,  every  inflection  of  her  voice, 
every  gesture  of  her  hand,  every  expression 
of  her  mobile  face  showed  subtlety  of  thought 
and  sentiment;  she  was  obviously  a  creature 
29 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

of  fine  distinctions,  of  nuances  of  feeling, 
though  at  present  her  talk  was  as  simple  and 
joyous  as  a  child's.  That  simplicity  of  hers, 
however,  was  the  simplicity  of  a  Greek  tem- 
ple, made  up  of  subtle  ratios  and  proportions, 
of  imperceptible  curves  and  esoteric  laws. 

She  drew  up  a  chair,  at  last,  and  sat  down 
beside  me.  We  looked  at  each  other  frankly, 
and  smiled,  aware  of  a  common  thought,  the 
desire  to  prolong  the  situation  as  far  as  we 
might.  This  quickness  of  her  imagination 
was  a  delight.  But  the  game  was  becoming 
too  humorous,  now,  in  broad  daylight,  for  us 
to  keep  it  up.  Our  romance  was  in  danger. 

"I'm  bursting  with  the  obvious,"  I  re- 
marked. 

She  shook  her  finger  at  me  with  spirit. 
"If  you  dare !" 

"Oh,  I'll  not  be  the  first.  Man  though  I 
am,  I  can  restrain  my  curiosity. ' ' 

How  quickly  her  face  changed !  An  almost 
infantile  look  came  into  it,  as  she  said: 

"There  are  so  many  more  curious  things 
than  curiosity,  if  you  know  what  I  mean. 
30 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

Curiosity  is  such  a  destructive  process,  don't 
you  think  ?" 

"And  this  is  creative?  The  not  satisfying 
it,  I  mean." 

"Yes,  wonder  is — and  mystery.  It  rami- 
fies so.  It  splits  the  ray."  She  made  a 
queer,  mystical  gesture,  all  her  own. 

"Oh,  it  quite  blossoms!"  I  said.  "I 
breathe  all  sorts  of  perfumes  never  smelt." 

Her  eager  look  came  back,  and  she  smiled 
joyously.  "  How  quick  you  are !  I  wish  we 
could  keep  it  up  a  while !  I  should  have  liked 
to  marry  Bluebeard !  What  a  splendid  dowry 
he  gave !  Oh,  I  would  never  have  opened  the 
door  I  There  was  so  much  more  outside  than 
in,  wasn't  there?  But  now  the  role  is  yours ; 
you  must  be  Bluebeard's  wife — or  Robinson 
Crusoe.  Oh,  you  must  stay  on  the  island — 
this  island  with  me,  and  not  try  to  get  off. 
There  are  a  few  little  places  we  can  explore 
without  danger — will  you  be  satisfied  with 
them?" 

Somehow  I  got  the  spirit  of  it,  as  at  hear- 
ing some  words  of  a  strange  language  elo- 
31 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

quently  spoken.  She  was  warning  me  off — 
but  from  what!  I  would  find  out  soon 
enough,  should  the  meaning  need  to  he  made 
more  definite.  It  was  like  a  game  of  jack- 
straws;  if  I  did  not  play  gingerly  I  should 
hring  down  the  commonplace  upon  us.  My 
situation  was  delicate — it  almost  seemed  that 
I  had  arrived,  in  some  way,  inopportunely. 

But  she  had  gone  on.  "Did  you  read  my 
books  ? ' '  she  asked,  taking  up  one  of  them. 

"I  read  that  one — the  poems.  I  got  quite 
lost  in  them." 

"Which  ones?"  She  looked  up  from  the 
book  eagerly. 

"The  Journey,  and, — "  I  hesitated,  " — 
The  Riders."  I  was  watching  her  face  earn- 
estly. 

"Oh,  how  right  you  are!"  She  was  per- 
fectly simple  about  it.  There  was  no  conceit 
in  her.  "It  means,  doesn't  it,  that  we  al- 
ready have  a  language?  But  you  must  read 
the  essays,  too.  Then  maybe  we'll  have  a 
philosophy." 

"  I  '11  explore  them  with  pleasure. ' '  I  tried 
32 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

to  keep  the  appeal  out  of  my  voice.  "I  have 
such  a  lot  of  things  to  do  before  I  go. ' ' 

She  got  this  quite  as  I  intended.  "Well, 
we'll  be  perfectly  natural  and  let  come  what 
may,  as  it  seems  to  be  all  decided  for  us.  We 
won't  force  the  game.  But  I'm  afraid  you'll 
never  be  contented.  You'll  leave  the  island 
first,  I'm  quite  sure." 

I  protested ;  she  shook  her  head  slowly.  I 
knew  she  was  thinking  very  hard  of  some- 
thing. Her  smile  was  wistful,  her  eyes,  al- 
ways fixed  on  mine,  were  almost  somber  in 
their  expression. 

"Would  you  dare  promise ?" 

I  knew  now  there  was  something  behind  all 
this ;  some  fear  of  my  presence. 

"Shall  I?"  I  fenced,  more  to  draw  her  on 
than  from  any  doubt  of  her  meaning  or  re- 
luctance to  agree  with  her  wish. 

"It's  base  of  me — it's  foolish,  too,  for  it 
can  really  do  no  good.  But,  you  see,  I  don't 
quite  know  you,  do  I!" 

"And  don't  quite  want  to?"  I  was  un- 
kind enough  to  say,  but  only  with  the  same 
33 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

motive  as  before.  I  wanted  to  get  at  the  bot- 
tom of  it — find  out  what  it  was  she  dreaded, 
and  dared  not  acknowledge  that  she  did. 

She  was  a  little  hurt  and  said  that  it  wasn't 
fair  to  say  so,  that  I  wasn't  playing  the  game. 
I  was  properly  contrite,  and,  for  the  moment, 
gave  up  the  duel. 

"Let  it  be  a  promise,  then,"  I  said. 

At  this,  I  thought  she  looked  relieved ;  and 
that  she  should  be  so  at  my  bare  word  touched 
me.  It  did  cross  my  mind  that,  perceiv- 
ing my  adaptability  to  this  sort  of  affair,  she 
might  perhaps  have  taken  an  adventitious 
means  of  heightening  the  romance  of  the  sit- 
uation with  such  innuendo ;  but  she  seemed  to 
me  to  be  altogether  too  direct  for  that,  and 
too  sapient,  as  well. 

' '  Thank  you.  I  may  hold  you  to  that  prom- 
ise. Does  that  seem  ungracious  I" 

There  it  was.  There  was  most  definitely 
something  which  she  didn't  wish  me  to  know, 
and  which  my  advent  jeoparded.  I  was  truly 
sorry  for  her  now,  and  a  little  embarrassed 
at  my  position.  Meanwhile  her  eyes  were 
34 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

steadily  questioning  mine,  as  if  to  make  sure 
that  I  was  to  be  trusted.  I  took  up  her  last 
remark  to  relieve  the  tensity  of  her  mood. 

"You  couldn't  be  ungracious,  I'm  sure.  I 
should  as  soon  suspect  Leah!" 

She  laughed  more  freely.  "Oh,  I'm  so 
glad  you  appreciate  her!  That  says  more 
for  you  than  all  the  rest." 

"The  rest?"  I  insisted,  quite  ready  for 
a  compliment.. 

She  gave  it  to  me  with  her  head  a  little  on 
one  side,  and  her  right  eyebrow,  the  irregu- 
lar one,  whimsically  upraised. 

"Yes.  Your  keeping  it  up  so  well,  you 
know." 

"Oh,  I'll  keep  it  up!  It's  the  chief  charm 
of  being  here,  flat  on  my  back,  in  a  strange 
place.  I'm  sure  it  will  be  most  amusing." 

"I'm  not  so  sure.  I'm  full  of  moods  and 
whims — you're  going  to  be  terribly  disap- 
pointed in  me  sometimes — though  that  sounds 
like  vanity — and  I  may  take  advantage  of 
your  complaisance,  of  your  promise,  that  is. 
I  hope  you  won't  regret  it." 
35 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

So  it  rested,  my  promise  not  to  be  too  in- 
quisitive (for  I  took  its  meaning  to  be  that), 
given  and  accepted.  It  quite  whetted  my 
appetite,  you  may  be  sure.  If  all  this  talk 
seems  fine-spun,  it  is  my  fault  in  the  telling 
of  it,  for  in  the  give-and-take  we  perfectly 
understood  each  other.  I  can  not,  of  course, 
give  her  delicate  inflections,  but  these,  with 
her  looks  and  gestures,  said  as  much  as  her 
words. 

But  if  this  equivocal  conversation  was 
vague  and  shadowy,  she  could  pass  into  the 
sunshine  as  deftly.  She  seemed  to  do  so  now, 
as  she  rose  and  went  to  the  open  window  and 
whistled.  A  chorus  of  barks  answered  her. 
She  turned  to  me. 

"I  must  go  down  to  my  dogs,"  she  said. 
"I  wish  you  could  see  them — that  is,  if  you 
like  collies.  I  have  five,  all  thoroughbreds— 
they're  beauties!  You'll  have  to  get  ac- 
quainted with  them  as  soon  as  you're  able  to 
go  down-stairs." 

She  leaned  a  little  out  of  the  window  and 
36 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

called,  "Hi!  Nokomis!"  drawing  out  the 
vowels.  A  deep  bark  responded. 

' i  Hiawatha ! ' '  she  called  next,  and  she  was 
answered  by  a  sharp,  frenzied  yelping. 
"Minnehaha!"  followed — she  almost  sang 
the  name,  which  was  replied  to  like  the 
others.  Then  Chevalier  and  John  0 'Groat 
greeted  her  in  turn. 

"I'm  going  to  take  them  for  their  morn- 
ing run,"  she  said,  as  she  left  me.  "I'll  ex- 
amine you  on  the  essays  when  I  come  back. ' ' 

She  went  down,  and  soon  after  I  heard  her 
talking,  evidently  to  Uncle  Jerdon  and  to 
King.  Then  the  barking  rose  ecstatically, 
receded  in  the  distance,  and  finally  was  lost. 
I  took  up  the  essays  and  read  for  a  while. 
My  head  was  much  better,  and  my  soreness 
was  slowly  disappearing,  but  the  constrained 
positions  I  had  to  hold  to  keep  my  rib  from 
paining  me  made  me  too  weary  and  impatient 
to  put  my  mind  on  my  book.  I  could  hardly 
wait  for  Miss  Fielding  to  return,  and  lay  in- 
ert, watching  the  flies  drift  lazily  through 
37 


THE    WHITE    CAT, 

the  sunshine  that  filled  the  room,  hoping  that 
Leah,  at  least,  might  come  in  to  break  my 
ennui.  I  welcomed  even  the  hoarse,  squeaky 
cry  of  King's  pump,  the  occasional  crowing 
of  a  rooster,  the  twittering  of  birds  in  the 
apple-tree,  and  the  many  little  homely  sounds 
of  country  life.  The  fragrant  perfume  of  the 
roses  in  the  room  was  a  blessed  reminder  of 
Miss  Fielding's  kindness. 

In  a  half-hour,  I  heard  the  dogs  approach- 
ing, and  she  came  into  the  room  again,  hat- 
less,  bringing  a  new  breath  of  June  with  her. 
Her  hair  was  blown  to  a  silky  veil  through 
which  her  eyes  shone  and  her  rosy  cheeks 
glowed  as  she  smiled  at  me  over  the  foot- 
board of  my  bed.  Throwing  off  her  little 
white  bolero,  a  saucy  thing  with  black  velvet 
collar  and  cuffs,  she  went  to  the  mirror  and 
gathered  up  the  loose  strands  of  hair,  tuck- 
ing them  in,  here  and  there,  with  deft  touches 
of  her  fingers,  and  adjusting  them  with  dark 
tortoise-shell  pins,  until  her  little  head, 
coiffed  high,  was  as  smooth  as  a  cat's. 

She  came  up  to  the  bedside  and  was  quick 
38 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

to  notice  by  my  nervous  movements  that  I 
was  ^suffering.  Sitting  down  she  began  to 
tell  gaily  of  her  walk  over  the  hill,  and,  as 
she  spoke,  my  aching  was  calmed  as  if  she 
had  laid  a  finger  on  the  electric  switch  that 
controlled  it.  Then  she  suggested  reading 
to  me,  and  took  up  the  volume  of  poems  we 
had  discussed. 

Her  voice  was  not  quite  intense  enough 
for  strong  emotion ;  it  had  not  the  momentum, 
so  to  speak,  to  carry  the  lines  along  with  the 
swing  and  rhythm  necessary.  It  was  too  light 
for  that,  but  it  more  than  made  up  for  it  by 
its  sympathetic  tenderness  and  the  delicacy 
of  its  inflection.  Her  tones  lulled  me,  and  I 
fell  asleep. 

In  the  afternoon  she  brought  her  mending, 
and  we  talked  for  a  couple  of  hours  or  so, 
always  keeping,  as  she  expressed  it,  "on  the 
island."    What  personalities  we  discussed, 
that  is,  had  no  reference  to  her  history  or  her 
plans.     She  warned  me  off  very  cleverly  sev 
eral  times  when  the  talk  approached  her  cir- 
cumstances or  even  her  moods  and  tastes. 
39 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

When  she  confessed  that  she  played  a  little 
on  the  piano  and  violin,  I  positively  insisted 
upon  my  rights  as  an  invalid  to  be  amused. 
She  rolled  up  her  work  and  went  to  get  her 
violin  without  excuses  or  apologies. 

I  waited  with  considerable  anxiety  to  hear 
what  and  how  she  would  play,  not  committing 
myself  as  to  my  own  choice  of  composers. 
She  began  in  her  own  room,  and  through  the 
opened  doors  I  heard  the  strains  of  the  Prize 
Song  played  with  great  verve  and  sentiment. 
I  was  delighted.  She  came,  still  playing,  into 
my  chamber,  her  sleeves  rolled  up  (she  said 
she  could  not  play  else),  and  accepted  my 
compliments  graciously  and  simply.  Then, 
walking  up  and  down,  absorbed,  she  gave  me 
fragments  of  Cesar  Franck's  sonata  for  the 
violin  and  piano.  To  watch  her,  supple,  vir- 
ile, rapt,  to  note  her  clever,  accomplished 
technique,  her  passionate,  free-armed  com- 
mand of  the  bow — I  have  seldom  seen  such  a 
splendid  attack  or  so  sure  and  true  a  vibrato 
— was  a  joy  beautifully  associated  with  the 
clarity  and  subtle  craftsmanship  of  the  mas- 
ter. 

40 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

So  she  ran  on,  alternating  her  renditions 
with  scraps  of  talk  that  showed  a  keen  mu- 
sical sense  and  an  appreciation  of  the  radi- 
cal, ultra-modern  movement  of  the  time.  Next 
she  burst  into  a  vibrant,  dramatic  Polish  folk- 
song that  excited  me  like  a  fire.  And  finally, 
as  a  tour  de  force,  her  eyes  dancing  as  she 
watched  me  over  her  shoulder  with  some  new 
audacious  devil  .in  her  smile,  she  enchanted 
me  with  a  vivid  piece  most  astonishingly 
enlivened  with  flights  of  technique — trills, 
brilliant  chord  passages,  and  runs  with  the 
upward  and  downward  "staccato  bow." 
Then  she  threw  down  her  fiddle  and  came  up 
to  me,  laughing. 

That  evening  she  had  another  delight  for 
me,  coming  to  my  bedside  and  reading  Villon 
and  Verlaine  in  the  original,  translating  the 
old  French  for  me  when  I  was  perplexed  by 
the  argot.  And  for  the  picture,  I  need  only 
add  that  Leah  was  of  the  circle,  and  made 
her  own  comments ! 


Ill 

There  was,  next  morning,  a  little  dialogue 
much  like  that  which  I  had  overheard  the 
day  before,  except  that  this  time  it  was 
' '  stewed  rose-leaves  with  a  small  pot  of  sun- 
shine," which  Miss  Fielding  was  fanciful 
enough  to  demand.  I  wondered  what,  after 
such  a  pleasantly,  she  did  have;  for  I  took 
it  to  be  some  joke  between  her  and  Leah,  who, 
no  doubt,  translated  the  metaphor  into  some- 
thing more  substantial. 

As  I  ate  breakfast,  I  could  hear  Miss 
Fielding  singing  in  her  room.  She  came  in 
before  I  had  finished  my  egg  and  coffee, 
bringing  an  armful  of  new  magazines.  This 
time  she  was  dressed  in  pongee  and  wore  a 
short  string  of  graduated  white  coral  beads 
which  was  mimicked,  when  she  smiled,  by  her 
little  teeth. 

42 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

"I've  found  out  about  you — quite  by 
cident,  though,  Mr.  Castle,  really,"  she  said 
gaily;  and,  opening  one  of  the  magazines, 
she  tapped  with  her  hand  the  picture  of  a 
country  house  my  firm  had  just  rather  suc- 
cessfully completed.  "So  you're  an  archi- 
tect! And  I'm  the  first  to  get  off  the  island, 
after  all!" 

"It  doesn't  matter,  I  suppose,  so  long  as 
I  stay  on?"  I  asked. 

"Oh,  this  doesn't  by  any  means  absolve  you 
of  your  promise,"  she  answered,  examining 
the  illustration  carefully,  still  standing  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed. 

"You  aren't  really  very  much  wiser,  are 
you?  There  are  architects  and  architects, 
you  know." 

"Yes,"  she  said,  apparently  thinking  of 
something  else.  "Quite  as  there  are  women 
and  women,"  she  added,  turning  over  the 
pages  idly. 

"There's  only  one  of  your  sort!"  I  ex- 
claimed. 

A  queer  smile  passed  and  was  repressed 
43 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

upon  her  lips,  molding  them  into  new  curves. 
"Yes,  only  one  of  me." 

"I  don't  exactly  mean  that,  either, "  I  went 
on.  "The  fact  is,  rather,  that  there  is  more 
than  one  of  me.  There's  the  architect  and 
the  man  in  me — and  how  many  more !  One 
is  always  astonishing  the  others.  Aren't 
there,  after  all,  several  of  you,  Miss  Field- 
ing! " 

She  gave  me  a  frightened  glance,  then 
tossed  the  magazine  on  the  bed.  It  wasn't 
petulance ;  she  seemed  to  be  disturbed  at  the 
subject. 

' '  Oh,  I  'm  only  a  White  Cat ! ' '  she  said  cryp- 
tically. 

She  seemed  anything  but  that,  to  me. 

"I'll  tell  you  about  it  sometime — per- 
haps," she  added.  "But  not  now." 

She  stood  with  her  hands  behind  her  back, 
raising  herself  on  her  toes,  and  changed  the 
subject.  "I'm  awfully  anxious  to  show  you 
this  house,  now  that  I  know  you're  an  archi- 
tect. It's  one  of  the  oldest  hereabout,  and  it 
was  a  wreck  when  I  bought  it.  I've  had  it  all 
44 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

done  over  inside,  and  I  shall  expect  you  to 
compliment  me  on  my  taste,  for  it's  mainly 
my  own  ideas." 

"What  I've  seen  of  it  is  charming — but  a 
bit  impersonal,  perhaps." 

"Oh,  this  is  only  the  guest-chamber.  One 
doesn't  inflict  one's  ideas  on  the  transient  vis- 
itor. Of  course  this  is  a  bloodless,  sexless 
place.  You'll  find  personality  enough  in  my 
room,  I  fancy.  I  hope  you'll  be  able  to  get 
down-stairs  by  day  after  to-morrow,  and 
have  a  chance  to  look  about  at  the  place.  I'm 
sure  you'll  love  Midmeadows.  I'm  expecting 
the  doctor  down  here  this  afternoon,  and 
he'll  probably  be  able  to  tell  you  how  long 
you'll  have  to  stay.  I  do  hope  you  won't 
get  well  too  fast,  Mr.  Castle." 

' '  Trust  me  for  that, ' '  I  said.  ' '  I  give  you 
fair  notice,  I  shall  probably  do  some  malin- 
gering. But  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  the  doctor, 
if  only  to  make  sure  that  I  can  impose  on 
him." 

My  heart  sank,  nevertheless,  at  the  thought 
of  his  interruption  of  our  idyl.  I  felt  an 
45 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

illogical  right  to  her  by  discovery,  a  certain 
franchise  in  her  good  graces  that  Fate  her- 
self had  given  me.  The  possible  weakening 
of  our  alliance,  however,  was  only  the  nega- 
tive side  of  my  annoyance.  The  positive  as- 
pect was  that  Doctor  Copin  seemed  to  be  an 
old  acquaintance,  even  a  friend;  for  Miss 
Fielding  had  mentioned  that  she  was  going 
to  walk  over  to  the  Harbor  to  meet  him.  It 
was  possible,  even — and  the  idea  was  poison 
— that  she  was  in  love  with  him.  Well,  I 
must  needs  wait  and  see  him  before  I  de- 
cided as  to  that  chance. 

I  asked  her  to  call  her  dogs  again,  and,  see- 
ing that  it  might  amuse  me,  she  offered  to 
bring  Nokomis,  the  best-behaved,  and  matron 
of  the  kennel,  up  to  see  me.  I  accepted 
eagerly,  and,  from  the  window,  she  called 
her  favorite. 

Nokomis  was  one  of  the  most  beautiful  col- 
lies I  have  ever  seen,  a  tawny  red,  or  sable, 
with  white  ruff,  feet,  and  tail-point.  Her 
head  was  very  finely  shaped — not  too  dull  for 
keenness,  nor  with  too  much  of  the  silly  grey- 
46 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

hound's  tapering  muzzle,  as  not  a  few  flat- 
headed  prize-winners,  bred  chiefly  for  color 
and  coat,  have.  She  had  dark  brown  eyes 
set  with  that  obliqueness  that  gives  the  breed 
its  characteristic  look  of  brightness,  kindness 
and  craft.  Her  small  ears,  as  she  entered, 
were  semi-erect,  giving  her,  as  she  stopped 
with  her  head  slightly  on  one  side,  the  sharp, 
doubtful  expression  of  the  fox.  She  came 
with  her  flag  up,  as  if  she  were  on  exhibition 
before  judges,  marched  to  Miss  Fielding  and 
waited  for  orders. 

"Isn't  she  a  darling ?"  Miss  Fielding  said 
affectionately,  rubbing  her  pet's  neck.  "You 
hasn't  got  flappy,  saddle-bag  ears  and  a  high 
forehead  and  a  velvet  jacket,  has  you!  I 
don't  see  no  snipey  nose!  Hasn't  she  got  an 
'honest,  sonsie,  bawsint  face,'  Mr.  Castle? 
Only  it  isn't  'bawsint.'  And  look  at  her 
gawcie  tail,  wi'  upward  curl!'  She  has 
old  Cockie  herself  for  an  ancestor,  sHe  has!" 

Nokomis  gravely  stood  on  her  hind  legs 
with  her  forepaws  on  her  mistress'  skirt, 
panting — smiling,  I  might  well  say.  Then, 
47 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

in  obedience  to  a  word  and  a  gesture,  she 
dropped  and  came  over  to  me  in  so  dignified 
and  friendly  a  way  that  I  fell  promptly  in 
love  with  her.  Her  outer  coat  was  abundant, 
straight  and  stiff,  the  under  one  so  thick  and 
soft  and  furry  that  I  could  not  find  the  skin. 
Her  ruff  was  magnificent,  her  chest  deep  and 
strong.  I  was  sure  she  would  be  a  good 
worker ;  her  wit  had  already  been  proved. 

'Miss  Fielding  was  pleased  with  my  appre- 
ciation, and  consented  to  having  Nokomis  re- 
main, and  so,  for  the  rest  of  the  day,  except 
for  occasional  inquisitive  excursions,  she  lay 
on  the  floor  beside  my  bed,  thumping  her  tail 
and  listening  attentively  whenever  I  looked 
down  to  speak  to  her. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  Miss  Fielding  put 
on  a  fresh  linen  waist  and  corduroy  skirt  to 
set  out  for  the  station.  Before  she  went  she 
moved  about  the  room,  readjusting  the  flow- 
ers, drawing  a  shade  or  two  which  threatened 
to  let  the  sun  into  my  eyes,  renewing  my 
pitcher  of  water  and  so  on,  giving  me  in  five 
minutes  a  dozen  evidences  of  her  tact, 
48 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

thoughtfulness  and  consideration.  Then, 
with  a  last  warning  to  Nokomis  to  take  good 
care  of  me,  she  went  away,  leaving  the  apart- 
ment depressingly  empty. 

Leah  came  in  occasionally,  however,  to  see 
if  I  was  comfortable,  but  I  could  get  little 
talk  from  her.  She  answered  all  my  ques- 
tions, looking  at  me  with  her  melting,  deep 
brown  eyes,  which  were  really  not  a  little  like 
those  of  old  Nokomis,  but  volunteering  no 
remark  of  her  own.  Between  the  two  I  man- 
aged to  be  fairly  patient  till,  at  about  three 
o'clock,  Miss  Fielding  returned  with  the  doc- 
tor. I  was  aware  of  their  approach  for  some 
time  before  they  arrived  by  the  joyous  bark- 
ing of  the  collies  in  front  of  the  stable.  At 
this  Nokomis  pricked  up  her  ears,  but  was  too 
well-bred  to  pay  more  attention.  I  had 
laughed  at  her  for  yawning  wide  with  her 
wolf-like  jaws,  and  she  was  sensitively  on  her 
dignity. 

Doctor  Copin  was  tall  and  thin  and  younger 
than  I  had  expected ;  and  like  most  young  doc- 
tors he  attempted  to  make  much  of  his  years 
49 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

by  a  pointed,  reddish  beard.  Nature  bad  as- 
sisted him  in  this  attempt,  also,  by  removing 
enough  of  his  hair  to  give  him  a  shiny  bald 
forehead  almost  to  the  crown  of  his  head, 
and  making  him  near-sighted  enough  to  re- 
quire strong  eye-glasses.  But  all  this  could 
not  induce  me  to  think  him  more  than  twenty- 
seven  or  eight  years  of  age.  His  eyes  were 
of  that  china  blue  which,  with  red  hair,  is  so 
apt  to  give  a  selfish,  heartless  expression, 
which  went  very  well  with  his  general  blood- 
lessness.  Except  for  those  protruding  blue 
eyes  he  might,  with  his  yellowy-brown  suit 
and  his  slender,  long  hands,  have  been  an  ani- 
mated caricature,  done  in  red  chalk.  Worst 
of  all,  to  my  mind,  he  made  puns. 

He  approached  me  with  the  jocose  air  af- 
fected by  physicians,  and  looked  me  over  with 
a  grin.  I  could  see,  under  his  sparse  beard, 
that  he  had  a  lizard  chin  receding  comically. 

"Well,  Mr.  Castle, "  he  said,  "I  expect  you 

haven't  been  climbing  any  more  trees  with 

your  machine  lately,  have  you?    Feeling  like 

Adam,  after  the  creation  of  Eve,  with  that 

50 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

fourth  rib  of  yours  1  Let  me  have  a  feel  of  it. 
Ah!" 

He  prodded  me  a  little.  "Well,  we're  do- 
ing so-so, ' '  he  went  on.  ' '  If  you  were  a  foot- 
ball player  you'd  be  up  in  five  minutes. 
How's  the  head?  I  suppose  you  haven't  had 
quite  such  a  big  one  since  you  put  on  long 
pants.  You're  not  having  many  long  pants 
these  days,  I  fancy,  with  that  cracked  bone  in 
your  chest,  are  you?"  And  so  on.  I  tried 
to  smile,  and  did  not  succeed  till  I  had  caught 
sight  of  Miss  Fielding's  face  frowning  over 
his  shoulder. 

I  was  doing  well,  it  seemed.  It  was  noth- 
ing but  a  matter  of  time  and  patience.  The 
worst  of  it  was  the  shaking  up,  and  for  that, 
rest  was  all  that  was  necessary. 

I  answered  his  pleasantries,  asked  him  the 
news  in  town,  and  thanked  him  for  what  he 
had  done,  which,  indeed,  was  not  much.  If 
I  have  given  the  impression  that  he  was  an 
ass,  that  was  not  at  all  how  he  impressed  me. 
Though  he  persistently  refused  to  talk  sense, 
and  turned  everything  I  said  into  jest,  I  was 
51 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

ready  enough  to  believe  that  he  knew  his  busi- 
ness and  stood  well  in  the  profession.  I  got 
little  more  than  this  however,  for  he  soon  left 
for  a  talk — likely  a  professional  one,  I  im- 
agined— with  my  hostess.  This  lasted  till, 
after  an  early  dinner,  he  left  the  house  to  be 
driven  back  to  the  station  by  Uncle  Jerdon. 
Idle  and  bored  as  I  was,  while  alone,  I  specu- 
lated upon  his  relations  with  Miss  Fielding; 
but  from  what  I  had  seen  I  could  hardly  re- 
gard him  as  a  rival.  Still,  I  knew  well 
enough  that  one  could  not  predicate  from  a 
man's  appearance  how  women  might  like  him. 
Doctor  Copin  would  not  be  here  in  attend- 
ance, much  less  as  a  visitor,  unless  there  was 
some  value  in  him.  He  evidently  knew  the 
place  well  enough  to  have  been  at  Midmead- 
ows  often.  It  made  me,  for  no  particular 
reason  that  I  could  name,  uncomfortable. 

It  was  still  and  warm,  the  beginning  of 
the  hush  of  twilight,  the  birds'  chattering 
quieted,  when  voices  came  plainly  up  to  me 
through  the  open  window  beside  my  bed. 
Miss  Fielding  and  the  doctor  were  coming 
52 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

round  a  corner  of  the  house  on  their  way  to 
the  stable. 

"I  wish  when  she  comes,  next  time,  you'd 
have  Leah  let  me  know,"  I  heard  Doctor  Co- 
pin  say  earnestly. 

"I  won't  promise  to  do  that,"  was  her  re- 

piy. 

"Why  not?"  he  asked  sharply. 

"Why  do  you  want  to  know?"  she  asked. 

"You  know  well  enough.  You  know  how 
interested  I  am  in  her." 

"I  wish  I  did!" 

This  was  the  last  I  could  make  out,  for 
they  passed  into  the  yard  behind  the  house. 
I  heard  the  carriage  drive  off,  and  soon  after 
Miss  Fielding's  voice  inside  the  house,  calling 
for  Leah  to  come  down.  I  thought  that  I  de- 
tected a  strain  of  excitement,  even  of  alarm  in 
her  tones. 

A  half-hour  afterward,  she  came  into  my 
room  with  a  chess-board,  and  asked  me  if  I 
played  the  game.  I  was  delighted  to  try  it 
with  her,  though  I  was  poor  enough  at  it,  and 
she  beat  me  easily. 

53 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

She  was  quite  as  charming  as  ever,  but,  as 
I  studied  my  strategy,  she  had  time  in  the 
silent  pauses  to  fall  into  little  moods  of  rev- 
erie, letting  the  talk  drop  naturally.  I  was 
not  too  absorbed  in  my  play  to  notice  it,  and 
once  or  twice  I  looked  up  from  the  board  to 
see  her  face  show  a  tragic  expression,  clear- 
ing, under  my  surveillance,  with  what  seemed 
to  be  a  forced  smile.  The  little  lines  near  her 
eyes  seemed  to  have  deepened  since  morning, 
and  two  vertical  ones  came,  at  times,  cutting 
upright  clefts  between  her  brows.  Once  or 
twice  she  put  her  hand  to  her  head  suddenly. 
Her  listlessness  accented  her  grace,  but  she 
seemed  distinctly  older. 

After  she  had  announced  mate  in  three 
moves  she  awaited  my  capitulation.  Then 
she  put  the  board  and  men  aside  wearily. 

"You'll  find  it  desperately  stupid  here,  I 
know,  Mr.  Castle, "  she  began.  "I  wish  we 
could  be  more  amusing,  but  I'm  a  bit  blue  to- 
night." 

"I  only  reproach  myself  for  not  being  able 
to  make  you  forget  it,"  I  said.  "As  for  my- 
54 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

self,  I  always  feel  like  the  hero  of  a  fairy  tale 
when  you're  about." 

She  gave  her  head  a  quick,  backward  shake, 
as  if  to  free  her  mind  of  some  disturbing 
thought.  "Oh,  I  told  you  I  was  the  White 
Cat,  you  know!"  she  replied.  "Can't  you 
imagine  how  interesting  it  must  be  for  us  to 
have  any  one  here  at  all,  and  you  most  espe- 
cially? Why,  I  feel  that  you  are  a  friend,  al- 
ready. If  it  hadn't  been  so,  I  shouldn't  have 
dared  to  confess  so  frankly  that  I'm  de- 
pressed." 

"What  can  I  possibly  say  of  you,  then, 
who  have  proved  yourself  so  friendly?  I 
shall  be  glad  when  it  comes  my  turn  to  give, 
and  yours  to  receive." 

"Oh,  that  time  will  come  soon  enough,  I'm 
afraid,"  she  said,  folding  her  hands  in  her 
lap,  and  looking  down  at  them. 

1  i  You  make  me  quite  long  for  it ! " 

"Oh,  don't  long  for  it !"  she  exclaimed,  and 

then  rose  nervously  to  stand  facing  the  lamp 

with  a  fixed,  entranced  gaze.    "It  will  mean, 

perhaps,  that  I  shall  need  all  your  sympathy, 

55 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

all  your  charity,"  she  added,  turning,  ever 
so  slowly,  to  look  down  at  me. 

"I  will  give  anything  yon  ask " 

"And  I  shall  ask  nothing,"  she  put  in 
quickly.  Again  she  threw  her  head  back  with 
that  quick,  freeing  gesture.  I  saw  what  she 
meant.  It  would  be  put  to  my  tact  and  intu- 
ition. 

She  held  out  her  hand  impulsively  and  put 
it  into  mine.  It  seemed  very  small  and 
slight,  and  it  was  cold.  Then,  summoning  a 
smile  so  rapid  that  it  came  and  went  in  a 
flash,  she  bade  me  good  night  and  left  the 
room. 

For  fully  an  hour  after  that,  I  heard  her 
voice  and  Leah's  in  a  steady,  low  conversa- 
tion in  the  room  across  the  hall.  At  nine, 
Leah  came  in  to  adjust  the  light  and  see  that 
I  wanted  nothing.  I  fell  into  an  uneasy 
sleep,  waking  at  every  cock-crow. 


56 


IV 

The  next  day  was  harsh  and  cloudy. 
There  was  a  light  fog  in  from  the  sea, 
enough  to  make  it  a  little  cold,  and  to  depress 
my  spirits.  It  was,  therefore,  with  great  im- 
patience that  I  awaited  the  matutinal  visit 
from  my  hostess.  She  was  usually  up  be- 
times ;  to-day  she  slept  late. 

It  had  already  become  one  of  my  chief  di- 
versions to  listen  for  the  little  morning  col- 
loquy in  the  hall,  but  to-day  I  heard  nothing 
till  after  eight  o'clock,  when  Leah  came  up- 
stairs, knocked  on  the  opposite  door,  which 
was  always  half -open  at  night,  and  put  her 
usual  question. 

Miss  Fielding's  voice  came  sharp  and 
clear,  a  little  querulous. 

"Oh,  I'll  have  bacon  and  eggs,  I  think; 
but  wait  a  while,  Leah;  I'm  sleepy  and  I 
don't  want  to  get  up  yet." 
57 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

Leah  closed  my  own  door  softly  and  went 
down-stairs.  I  was  disappointed.  I  hoped 
Miss  Fielding  was  not  in  a  bad  humor,  though 
that  seemed  impossible.  When  Leah  came 
up  with  the  tray  and  gave  me  a  "good  morn- 
ing," I  said: 

"Leah,  I  wish  you'd  ask  Miss  Fielding  if 
Nokomis  can't  come  up  into  my  room  this 
morning,  will  you?" 

She  hesitated  just  long  enough  for  me  to 
notice  that  she  was  troubled;  then  she  put 
down  the  tray,  saying: 

"Nokomis  is  a  queer  old  dog,  Mr.  Castle, 
and  I  don't  know  that  she'll  come." 

"Why,  she  was  here  all  day  yesterday  and 
we  had  a  beautiful  time  together!" 

"I  know."  Leah  turned  to  leave.  "I'll 
speak  about  it,  of  course,  but — well,  these 
dogs  have  all  sorts  of  fancies,  and  you  can't 
always  depend  upon  them.  They  will  and 
they  won't."  She  did  not  look  at  me  as  she 
answered,  and  went  out  immediately. 

I  felt  that  I  had  somehow  blundered  into 
an  indiscretion,  though  what  it  was  I  couldn't 
58 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

possibly  see.  It  made  me  exceedingly  un- 
comfortable, for  I  would  have  done  anything 
rather  than  take  advantage  of  the  kindness 
and  hospitality  with  which  I  had  been 
treated.  I  remembered  that  I  had  not  yet 
heard  the  dogs  barking;  that  might  possibly 
mean  something,  but  it  gave  me  no  clue.  I 
had  to  give  it  up  and  try  to  make  amends  as 
well  as  I  might. 

A  little  later  I  heard  Miss  Fielding's  door 
slam,  and  her  footsteps  running  down  the 
stairs.  That  she  had  not  come  in  to  see  me, 
even  if  for  only  a  few  words,  did  not  decrease 
my  annoyance.  Shortly  after  came  a  chorus 
of  barks,  but  I  fancied  that  they  were  not  of 
the  same  mood  that  I  had  noted  before ;  there 
seemed  to  be  something  antagonistic  in  their 
protesting  notes,  as  if  some  stranger  had 
perhaps  passed  the  house.  I  had  got  the 
idea  that  Midmeadows  was  a  lonely  place, 
though  I  had  not  yet  seen  the  outside  of  the 
building,  and  no  doubt  the  collies  were  dis- 
trustful of  visitors.  I  waited  expectantly  to 
hear  Miss  Fielding  call  them,  one  by  one,  as 
59 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

she  had  before;  but,  if  she  did  so,  I  missed 
it. 

For  half  an  hour  or  more  there  was  a 
steady  pounding  down-stairs,  and,  when  Leah 
came  for  my  tray,  I  heard  some  one  whis- 
tling, the  least  bit  out  of  tune.  Leah  was  si- 
lent and  reserved.  She  asked  how  I  had 
slept,  and  if  I  were  better,  and  there  the  con- 
versation ended. 

Finally,  at  about  eleven  o'clock,  Miss 
Fielding  came  in.  I  looked  up  eagerly. 

She  wore  a  stiffly  laundered  shirt-waist, 
noticeably  stained  and  soiled,  though  it  had 
evidently  been  put  on  clean  that  morning. 
She  wore  no  stock,  and  the  neck  was  turned 
away  in  a  V,  carelessly,  showing  a  little  gold 
chain  with  a  sapphire  pendant,  and  the 
sleeves  were  rolled  up  above  her  dimpled  el- 
bows. She  had  a  heavy  walking-skirt  and 
heavy  mannish  shoes  whose  soles  projected 
a  full  half-inch  beyond  the  uppers.  Her  hair, 
which,  before,  I  had  always  seen  exquisitely 
coiled  high  on  her  head,  was  done  in  a  full 
pompadour,  though  now  it  fell  in  flat  folds 
60 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

over  her  forehead  and  wisped  out  in  the  back 
of  her  neck. 

She  came  up  to  my  bedside  and  smiled 
frankly  at  me.  I  got  a  pronounced  odor  of 
Santal. 

"Well,  how  are  you  to-day!"  she  said 
jovially.  "Do  you  feel  better?" 

I  said  that  I  did,  noticing  that  she  wore 
three  rings  on  her  left  hand.  It  was  good 
to  see  her  so  full  of  life  and  energy. 

"You  certainly  were  a  sight  when  you  were 
brought  in, ' '  she  went  on ;  "I  was  frightened 
to  death.  I  never  saw  any  one  unconscious 
before,  and  I  thought  you  were  dead,  for  sure. 
Isn't  it  lucky  the  doctor  was  here?  I'm 
awfully  sorry  your  auto  was  smashed  up  so, 
for  I'd  like  to  try  it  myself.  I've  been  want- 
ing one.  Yours  is  a  foreign  make,  isn't  it? 
I've  been  looking  it  over.  It's  a  water-cooled 
engine,  I  see.  But  I  want  a  six-cylinder. 
I'm  going  to  see  if  Uncle  Jerdon  and  I  can't 
patch  it  up  so  that  it'll  go." 

"Fancy  a  girl's  caring  about  machinery!" 
I  said,  smiling  at  her  enthusiasm.  "You're 
61 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

the  last  person  in  the  world  I'd  ever  think 
would  have  any  interest  in  it." 

"Why!"  she  said,  sitting  on  the  edge  of 
the  bed,  and,  turning  down  her  sleeves, 
covered  her  round,  strong  arms. 

"I  thought  that  you  were  more  of  the  artis- 
tic temperament." 

"Oh,  I  like  to  use  my  hands,"  she  said. 
She  held  one  out,  its  fingers  stiffly  opened, 
then  clenched  her  fist  firmly.  "They're 
stronger  than  they  look.  Try  it ! " 

She  took  my  hand  in  hers  and  gave  me  a 
grip  as  strong  as  any  ordinary  man's. 

"That  comes  from  your  violin  practice,  I 
suppose,"  I  remarked. 

Her  eyes  were  on  mine,  and  I  saw  that  the 
pupils  were  dilated,  and  the  irises  so  dark 
as  almost  to  appear  hlack.  She  did  not  an- 
swer me  for  a  moment,  and  then  simply 
nodded  vaguely  and  changed  the  subject. 

"I've  taken  the  clock  apart  more  than  once. 

The  dining-room   one,   I  mean.    When  the 

hands  point  to  eight,  it  strikes  four  and  it's 

half-past  two,  really.    I  have  to  tell  time  by 

62 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

an  algebraic  formula.  I'm  going  to  dissect 
it  again  and  see  if  I  can't  get  it  right."  She 
laughed  merrily,  swinging  her  foot  back  and 
forth. 

At  that  moment  the  collies  began  to  bark 
again.  She  sprang  up  impatiently,  and  went 
to  the  window. 

"Darn  those  dogs!"  she  complained, 
"don't  they  make  a  horrid  racket,  though !  I 
can't  keep  them  quiet."  Then  she  raised  the 
sash  abruptly,  leaned  out  and  cried,  "Hush 
up,  there!" 

Their  answer  was  a  chorus  of  indignation. 
She  let  down  the  window  with  a  clatter,  and 
walked  to  the  mirror  to  rearrange  her  hair, 
using  silver  pins  that  shone  conspicuously  in 
her  dark  locks.  Her  skirt  had  sagged  away 
from  her  belt,  at  the  back,  from  the  violence 
of  her  work,  no  doubt,  and  she  reached  to  fix 
it,  turning  to  smile  at  me  coquettishly  after 
she  did  so. 

"Do  you  like  my  hair  done  high  or  low?" 
she  asked. 

"I  like  it  best  the  way  I  first  saw  it,  that 
63 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

night,"  I  said.  "It  was  done  in  a  fillet,  or  a 
bandeau,  wasn't  it?" 

"Why,  no!  It  was  pompadonred,  wasn't 
it?  Oh,  yes — perhaps  it  was — I  forget — but 
it's  so  fine  that  I  can't  do  anything  with  it." 

Except  for  these  little  lapses  of  abstraction 
when  she  stared  so  puzzlingly  at  me,  she  was 
in  high  spirits.  Her  presence  filled  the  room 
with  electricity;  she  surcharged  its  atmos- 
phere. She  seemed  more  virile  than  ever, 
more  full  of  life,  so  full  that  it  actually 
seemed  to  splash  over  in  all  sorts  of  energetic 
gestures  of  her  head  and  hands.  As  she 
stood,  now,  in  the  center  of  the  room,  she 
made  a  quick  dash  at  a  fly  that  drifted  past, 
caught  it  in  her  hand,  smiled  at  her  dexterity, 
and  tossed  it  aside.  She  made  passes  and 
rapid  motions  with  her  arms,  as  if  she  were 
swinging  a  tennis  racket,  and  tapped  her  toes 
and  heels  in  a  little  clog-dance  as  she  walked. 
I  saw  that  she  was  getting  bored. 

"Well,"  she  said  at  last,  "I  must  go  to 
work.  If  there's  anything  you  want  Leah 
will  do  it  for  you.  You  can  call  her.  There's 
64 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

the  bell.  Don't  hesitate  to  ring  it.  I'll  be 
so  glad  when  yon  can  come  down-stairs  and 
see  the  place.  It's  a  jolly  old  shack — you'll 
like  it!" 

She  waved  her  hand  jauntily  and  swung 
out  of  the  room.  I  heard  her  run  down- 
stairs, and  a  little  later  the  pounding  and 
the  whistling  recommenced. 

She  semed  different  to-day,  but  I  imagined 
that  perhaps  it  was  only  that  she  was  feeling 
better  in  health  and  mind,  though  she  had  not 
appeared  really  ill  before.  She  seemed 
younger  than  ever,  too,  the  little  lines  in  her 
face  seemed  to  be  mostly  ironed  out.  No 
doubt  it  was,  as  women  say, t '  her  day. ' '  Her 
beauty  was  more  obvious ;  it  was  undeniable. 

Yet  something  about  her  manner  troubled 
me.  I  was  distinctly  disappointed;  she 
seemed  less  subtle,  less  imaginative.  She 
was  no  longer  the  princess  of  my  fairy  tale ; 
the  spell  had  waned.  But  if  her  familiarity 
and  naturalness  upon  further  acquaintance 
were  less  romantic,  they  were  more  real,  and 
had  some  of  the  actuality  of  prose.  We  could 

65 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

still  be  good  friends,  for  I  liked  her  im- 
mensely. Perhaps  she  had  thought  we  had 
gone  too  far  sentimentally,  and  was  trying  to 
put  our  relations  upon  a  firmer  and  more 
matter-of-fact  basis.  Perhaps,  even,  Doctor 
Copin's  visit  had,  in  some  way,  affected  her, 
and  she  had  considered  that  her  entente  with 
me  was  becoming  dangerous.  Well,  it  was 
certainly  my  place,  as  a  stranger  thrust  upon 
her  hospitality,  to  take  whatever  cue  she  gave 
me,  disappointing  as  that  line  of  conduct 
should  prove.  For  I  had  been  stirred  and 
awakened  by  her.  I  could  not  deny  that  to 
myself.  And  no  doubt  I  had  taken  her  al- 
together too  seriously. 

I  saw  no  more  of  her  till  late  in  the  after- 
noon, but,  meanwhile,  Leah  made  me  a  wel- 
come visit.  After  luncheon  she  asked  me, 
quite  modestly,  if  I  would  like  her  to  read  to 
me  or  would  rather  play  chess.  I  chose  the 
reading,  wanting  very  much  the  opportunity 
of  studying  her.  Her  attention  seemed,  how- 
ever, to  be  distracted ;  I  was  sure  of  it  when, 
a  little  later,  she  excused  herself  to  go  down- 
66 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

stairs.  Then  I  noticed  the  barking  of  the 
dogs,  high-pitched  and  excited. 

She  came  back  soon  to  finish  her  reading, 
and,  that  done,  we  fell  to  talking.  As  she 
sat,  her  dark  face  was  outlined  against  the 
white  woodwork  of  the  alcove  like  a  silhou- 
ette. Her  white  teeth  shone. 

I  asked  her  about  her  education. 

"I  went  to  a  school  for  colored  women," 
she  said,  "fitting  myself  to  be  a  teacher.  But 
of  course  it's  hard  for  a  colored  girl  to  get  a 
chance,  except  with  her  own  race,  and  I  didn't 
want  to  go  South.  Then  I  got  this  place 
with  Miss  Fielding." 

"I  can't  imagine  any  situation  more  de- 
lightful," I  said,  watching  her. 

Her  eyes  burned,  smothered  in  quickening 
tears,  but  her  voice  was  calm  enough.  "It's 
lovely  here.  I  don't  mind  the  loneliness  a  bit. 
It's  nothing  to  what  I  have  endured  in  big 
cities." 

She  gave  it  to  me  simply,  with  no  apparent 
bid  for  sympathy,  but  I  knew  enough  of  the 
pathetic  isolation  of  the  educated  negro,  cut 
67, 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

off  from  any  real  mental  communion  with  the 
blacks  as  well  as  with  the  whites,  to  interpret 
the  repression  of  her  manner.  There  was 
a  tragedy  in  her  words. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "it  strikes  me  that  you're 
in  luck  to  be  here  with  such  a  companion  as 
Miss  Fielding.  And  she's  as  fortunate,  too. 
I'm  sure  you  get  on  beautifully.  Still,  how 
she  can  stand  it,  away  off  from  every  one,  I 
don't  see  quite  so  well." 

"Do  you  think  she's — unhappy?"  Leah 
asked  after  a  pause. 

"Certainly  not  to-day,  at  least.  Yester- 
day I  shouldn't  have  been  quite  so  sure  that 
she  wasn't." 

"Oh,  she  has  her  moods,"  Leah  admitted. 
"  I  do  my  best  to  indulge  them. ' '  She  looked 
up  at  me.  "So  must  you,  too,  Mr.  Castle!" 
She  held  my  eyes  deliberately,  as  if  expect- 
ing my  promise. 

"How  could  I  be  so  ungrateful  as  not  to, 
in  the  circumstances?" 

"I  mean — you  see,  she  doesn't  like  to  be 
questioned.    I  have  to  be  very  careful.     She 
68 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

has  her  fancies,  and  often  seems  inconsistent, 
even  a  bit  eccentric.  It  may  be  her  life  here 
alone.  You  know  she  sees  so  few  people. 
You  won't  notice  it!"  Still  her  eyes  ap- 
pealed to  me. 

"I  shan't  at  least  show  that  I  do." 

She  seemed  dissatisfied. 

"Except,  perhaps,  to  you,"  I  added,  try- 
ing, as  I  had  tried  with  Miss  Fielding,  to  get 
to  the  bottom  of  her  dread. 

"Oh,  not  to  me,"  she  begged.  "She's  too 
fine  for  us  to  be  discussing.  I've  said  too 
much  already,  I'm  afraid.  I  don't  know  why 
I  did.  Only " 

I  said  it  for  her.  "Only,  I  am  quartered 
on  you,  here,  and  you  can't  get  rid  of  me. 
You  have,  in  a  way,  a  spy  in  camp.  By  an 
accident,  I'm  here,  and  you're  at  my  mercy. 
Isn't  that  it?  You  don't,  I  mean,  quite  know 
what  I  am,  and  you'd  like  to  be  able  to  trust 
me,  whatever  happens."  It  was  a  jump  in 
the  dark  for  me. 

I  could  see  her  fingers  working;  she  had 
clasped  her  hands. 

69 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"Oh,  I  hope  I  haven't  given  you  the  idea 
that  anything  is  likely  to  happen,"  she  said 
anxiously.  "If  I  have,  I'm  quite  sorry  I 
spoke.  If  you'll  only  take  everything  quite 
as  a  matter  of  course — that's  all  I  mean — 
her  moods,  you  know,  and  not  think  things — 
She  ended  without  attempting  to  be  more 
lucid,  for  there  was  a  sound  of  some  one  com- 
ing up-stairs. 

Miss  Fielding  came  into  the  room,  and  her 
delicate  right  eyebrow  rose  at  seeing  Leah 
sitting  there,  doing  nothing. 

"Leah,  go  down  and  tie  up  the  dogs; 
they're  chasing  all  over  the  place!"  Her 
voice  was  crisp  and  peremptory. 

Leah  went  away  quietly;  I  got  a  swift 
glance  of  mute  appeal  at  me  as  she  left.  Miss 
Fielding  came  to  my  side  and  looked  down  at 
me  quizzically,  her  thumbs  in  her  belt. 

"Do  you  mind  telling  me  your  name?"  she 
said.  "It's  rather  awkward  not  to  know, 
you  know." 

"Oh,     Castle's     my     real     name,     right 
enough,"  I  answered. 
70 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

"Castle?"  she  repeated,  and  then,  as  if 
recollecting:  "Of  course,  but  I  meant  your 
first  name."  Her  face  cleared. 

''Chester  Castle,"  I  enlarged.  "A  good 
name  for  an  architect,  isn't  it?" 

"An  architect,  really?  Then  I'll  have  to 
get  you  to  help  me  on  my  little  house.  But 
you're  too  good-looking  for  an  architect," 
she  laughed.  "I  thought  they  always  wore 
pointed  beards,  like  doctors." 

"Oh,  I'm  not  a  Beaux- Arts  man,"  I  said, 
keeping  up  with  her  mood. 

"Are  you  married?" 

"No,  I'm  happy  to  say  I'm  not." 

"  So  am  I ! "  she  laughed.  '  <  That  is  to  say, 
I'm  glad  I'm  not,  and  I'm  glad  you're  not. 
My  name  is  Joy.  Isn't  it  silly?  It  doesn't 
fit  me  at  all.  I  ought  to  have  been  called 
Edna." 

"Very  well,  then,  you  shall  be!"  I  volun- 
teered. 

She  took  it  without  surprise  or  annoyance. 
"Oh,  I  don't  stand  on  ceremony.  That's 
silly.  If  you're  going  to  stay  here  for  a  week 
71 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

I  shall  have  to  call  you  Chester.  Do  you 
mind?  It's  an  awful  bore  to  have  to  say 
' Mr.  Castle'  all  the  time." 

"By  all  means.  My  mother  and  my 
friends  call  me  'Chef— " 

"That's  better  still.  Chet."  She  tried  it 
audibly.  '  <  I  rather  like  that. ' ' 

"You're  welcome  to  it."  I  laughed  at  her 
directness. 

"But  you  haven't  asked  me  any  questions ! 
I  should  think  you'd  be  curious.  Keally,  it 
isn't  at  all  complimentary  to  have  you  so  in- 
different." 

"Oh,  I'm  only  keeping  'on  the  island',"  I 
returned. 

"Keeping— what?" 

* 'Don't  you  remember — about  staying  'on 
the  island'?  You  know  you  asked  me  your- 
self to." 

"Oh,  yes— did  I?  I  forget."  The  puz- 
zled look  on  her  face  had  appeared  again, 
but  was  driven  away.  "Well,  there  really 
isn't  much  to  know  about  me.  It's  stupid 
enough  here  at  Midmeadows.  It's  iny  own 
72 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

place,  you  know.  It  used  to  belong  to  my 
grandfather.  I've  had  it  ever  since  he  died. 
I  suppose  it's  good  for  me  here,  for  I'm  ill 
a  good  part  of  the  time.  I'm  up  and  I'm 
down.  But  when  I'm  up,  I'm  up  pretty  high, 
and  when  I'm  down,  I'm  'way  down  in  the 
depths." 

She  had  sat  down  in  a  chair  and  had 
crossed  her  legs,  one  over  the  other,  wagging 
one  foot  and  clasping  her  hands  across  her 
knees  so  tightly  that  the  blood  was  driven 
from  her  white  knuckles  to  the  ends  of  her 
purple  fingers.  It  is  always  an  awkward 
pose;  I  have  often  wondered  how  a  pretty 
girl  could  ever  take  it.  Now  she  drew  her 
chair  closer  to  the  bedside  and  took  my  hand. 

"Let  me  see  your  hand,"  she  said  sudden- 
ly.   "I'll  read  your  palm,  if  you  like." 

She  bent  over  it,  drawing  so  near  that  her 
head  was  quite  close  to  mine,  so  close  that, 
had  it  not  been  for  the  perfume  she  used,  I 
should  have  got  the  odor  of  her  hair.  When 
she  turned  to  me,  smiling,  she  seemed  very 
near  indeed,  though  none  too  near  me.  She 
73 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

began  her  reading  of  the  lines,  holding  my 
hand  in  both  hers,  pointing  to  the  signs  with 
one  finger,  trying  the  resistance  of  my  thumb, 
squeezing  the  flesh  to  determine  its  firmness, 
kneading  it  and  handling  it  in  quite  the  pro- 
fessional manner.  It  took  her  some  time. 
The  opinions  she  gave  me  were  not  particu- 
larly affording,  but  they  were  rather  cleverly 
put.  She  made  a  good  deal  of  my  "magnet- 
ism," saying  that  she  could  actually  feel  it. 
I  was  properly  flattered.  I  could  feel  hers, 
easily  enough. 

Then  she  dropped  my  hand,  rose  and 
yawned  as  freely  as  had  Nokomis  herself. 

"I'm  starving!"  she  exclaimed.  "I  must 
see  what's  the  matter  with  dinner.  I'm  sor- 
ry you  can't  come  down,  Chet.  I  hate  to  eat 
all  alone." 

"Why,  doesn't  Leah  eat  with  you?"  I 
asked,  surprised. 

"No,  I  can't  quite  go  that!"  she  said  em- 
phatically, as  she  made  an  irrelevant  athletic 
gesture.  "I  have  to  draw  the  line  some- 
where, you  know.  I  have  Uncle  Jerdon 
74 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

sometimes,  though,  just  for  the  fun  of  seeing 
him  eat.  He's  perfectly  lovely!  He  holds 
his  fork  in  the  Kansas  City  style,  this  way — " 
She  illustrated  a  familiar  restaurant  atti- 
tude, with  the  thumb  and  little  finger  of  her 
left  hand  braced  under  a  paper-knife,  the 
three  middle  fingers  curled  atop.  "Then  he 
always  loads  up  his  fork  with  his  knife,  a 
little  piece  of  meat,  and  a,  little  piece  of  po- 
tato, and  a  little  dab  of  butter  and  a  little 
swish  of  gravy  and  then—  She  showed  me 
how,  pretending  to  toss  it  into  her  mouth, 
and  wiped  her  lips  with  the  back  of  her  hand, 
in  a  way  that  made  me  laugh  aloud.  "You 
could  hear  him  eat,  'way  up  here !  Golly ! 
it  makes  me  hungry  to  talk  about  it!"  she 
added.  "I'll  see  you  later,  Chet.  Oh— I'll 
send  you  up  some  current  jelly.  I  made 
it  myself;  sure  cure  for  the  measles!  Ee- 
member,  you  have  to  like  it ! "  And  she  was 
off  in  a  two-step. 

I  smiled  to  myself  at  her  pantomime,  after 
she  was  gone.     How  I  had  misjudged  her  at 
first !     She  seemed  commoner,  but  our  f riencU 
75 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

ship  was,  perhaps,  more  natural.  She  was 
no 'longer  the  wonderful,  exotic,  medieval 
princess  in  the  tower,  but  she  was  a  frank, 
wholesome  creature,  full  of  human  charms 
and  faults.  I  decided,  by  reason  of  that  sane 
analysis,  that  I  was  improving  in  health. 
My  bang  on  the  head,  no  doubt,  had  made  me 
unduly  impressionable. 

She  did  not  keep  her  word  in  regard  to 
coming  in  after  dinner.  Leah  brought  up  my 
tray,  as  usual,  and  took  it  away,  saying  that 
she  was  unable  to  stay  with  me.  She  seemed 
abstracted  and  nervous,  and  I  forbore  to 
question  her.  I  spent  a  dreary  evening  alone. 

The  pounding  went  on  for  two  hours  or 
more  after  dinner,  and  then  Miss  Fielding 
came  up-stairs  to  her  room.  She  contented 
herself  with  putting  her  head  through  the 
doorway  and  calling  out  "Good  night,  Chet!" 
and  then  I  heard  her  door  slam.  There  was 
no  talk  between  the,  two  women  that  I  could 
hear. 


76 


"Sliced  kisses,  fried  in  tears,"  were  the 
words  I  heard  Miss  Fielding  reply  to  Leah's 
morning  call,  early  the  next  day.  I  had 
waited  long,  for  the  day  was  bright  and  I 
wakened  at  sunrise.  Her  fanciful  order  put 
tme  immediately  into  a  good  humor,  and  I 
was  intensely  curious  to  see  what  the  day 
would  bring  forth. 

The  collies  were  barking  vociferously,  joy- 
ously. Suddenly  they  stopped,  and  then,  one 
by  one,  I  heard  them  greet  their  mistress.  It 
was  very  prettily  done.  Leah,  coming  in, 
found  me  smiling,  and  smiled  back  at  me. 
Seeing  me  so  much  better,  she  offered  timidly 
to  help  dress  me,  and  I  welcomed  her  pro- 
posal to  bring  me  hot  water  and  what  was 
necessary  for  shaving.  My  own  clothes  had 
been  sent  down,  so  I  prepared  myself  for 
my  chatelaine's  visit. 
77 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

Joy  came  into  my  room  with  a  sweet,  low, 
"Good  morning,  Mr.  Castle!"  which  threw 
me  back  not  a  little,  after  what  had  taken 
place  on  the  yesterday.  I  was  about  to  haz- 
ard some  good-natured  sarcasm,  but  the  sight 
of  her  face  inhibited  it,  and  something  of 
what  Leah  had  said  came  back  to  me.  I 
answered  the  greeting  without  comment, 
therefore,  and  waited  for  her  to  set  the  pace. 

She  was  in  an  exquisitely  fresh,  simple  or- 
gandy frock,  and  had  on  a  garden  hat  and 
gauntleted  garden  gloves;  her  arms  were 
filled  with  roses.  Her  brow  wrinkled  slightly 
as  she  noticed  the  fading  blossoms  which  had 
been  left  in  the  vases. 

"I'm  afraid  I  neglected  you  yesterday, " 
she  said,  as  she  set  about  removing  the 
dejected  roses  and  putting  fresh  ones  in  their 
places.  As  she  came  near  me,  I  noticed  little 
dewy  drops  on  her  neatly  coiled  hair,  where 
she  had  dashed  it  with  violet  water.  There 
was  no  trace  of  any  other  scent,  save  that  of 
the  roses.  She  drew  off  her  gloves  and  I  saw 
that  she  wore  no  rings. 
78 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

She  sat  down  for  a  moment.  I  had  ob- 
served before  that  not  only  could  Miss  Field- 
ing be  remarkably  graceful  in  pose  and  in 
action,  but  that  she  could  be  as  astonishingly 
gauche  as  well.  Astonishingly,  that  is,  for 
her — for  one  who  could  be  so  graceful.  This, 
however,  was  decidedly  one  of  her  graceful 
days,  or  rather,  perhaps,  as  Leah  had  said, 
moods.  Her  lines  melted  and  composed. 
There  was  positive  elegance  in  the  way  she 
used  her  hands,  gesticulating  freely.  It  en- 
hanced the  charm  of  her  voice,  so  limpid  and 
full  of  feeling. 

" Isn't  it  a  beautiful  morning!  What  a 
shame  it  is  that  you  can't  get  up.  You  must 
hurry  and  convalesce — just  enough  to  be  able 
to  see  the  place,  and  not  so  much  as  to  have 
to  go  away.  Perhaps  you  can  get  into  a 
chair  by  to-morrow.  Did  you  hear  my  dog- 
gies? I  can  recognize  each  of  them  by  the 
voice,  and  you  will  be  able  to,  too,  if  you  only 
stay  here  long  enough.  Nokomis  is  the 
deepest-toned  one.  She's  the  oldest,  you 
know,  and  the  most  dignified.  Hiawatha  is 
79 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

the  little  yappy  one.    He's  a  very  silly  little 
pup ! ' ' 

"I'm  sorry  Nokomis  didn't  want  to  come 
up  to  see  me,  yesterday,"  I  said.  "But  I 
hope  you'll  pardon  my  taking  the  liberty  of 
asking  for  her.  I  know  you  probably  don't 
often  allow  them  in  the  house." 

"Why,  of  course  Nokomis  can  come  up; 
the  idea !  She  'd  love  it.  Would  you  like  to 
see  her  now?"  Then,  with  her  eyes  on  mine, 
and  noticing  my  bewildered  look,  no  doubt, 
she  added,  with  a  queer  expression,  "Noko- 
mis wasn't  quite  well  yesterday.  She  is  get- 
ting old,  you  know."  She  rose  restlessly. 
"Will  you  wait  a  moment,  please!  I  want 
to  speak  to  Leah,"  and  she  went  out. 

Something  had  passed  over  her  spirits,  I 
couldn't  tell  what.  It  was  like  the  shadow  of 
a  cloud  sweeping  rapidly  across  a  sunny 
hillside.  Whatever  it  was,  it  was  gone  when 
she  returned. 

She  went  directly  to  the  window,  threw  up 
the  sash,  and  called  down,  "Nokomis!    Hi, 
Nokomis!"    A  bark  responded. 
80 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

"  Come  up  here,  old  lady !  Yes,  come  right 
up.  Wipe  your  feet,  please.  Wipe  your 
feet,  Nokomis ! ' ' 

The  next  thing  there  was  a  pattering  of  feet 
upon  the  stairs,  and  the  bitch  bounded  into 
the  room,  her  tail  wagging.  She  ran  up  to 
Miss  Fielding  immediately  for  orders. 

"Go  and  say  'How  d'you  dof  to  Mr.  Cas- 
tle, Nokomis,"  said  Miss  Fielding,  pointing 
at  me. 

Nokomis  dropped  to  the  floor  again,  and 
with  the  dignity  of  a  duchess  walked  over  to 
where  I  lay,  raised  her  beautiful  eyes  to  mine, 
lifted  a  forepaw  and  laid  it  on  the  bed.  I 
shook  it  and  felt  for  the  dog's  neck. 

"Now,  Nokomis — "  Miss  Fielding  began. 

She  was  down  on  the  instant,  went  to  her 
mistress  and  stood  waiting,  her  head  on  one 
side,  her  ears  half  erect,  her  tail  low. 

"Go  and  bring  up  Chevalier,  please,"  was 
the  command.  Nokomis  was  off  like  an  ar- 
row, and  presently  there  was  a  to-do  in  the 
yard.  By  this  time  I  could  recognize  Noko- 
mis' heavy  note  among  the  others.  Then 
81 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

she  and  a  tan-and-black  collie  came  rollicking 
into  the  room.  Both  came  immediately  up 
to  their  mistress. 

"Here's  Chevalier,  Mr.  Castle.  He's  a 
pretty  good  show  dog,  isn't  he?  He  hasn't 
got  a  fancy  livery,  but  he's  all  right,  except 
his  tail's  set  on  a  bit  too  high,  and  there's  a 
little  feather  to  his  hind  legs  below  the  hock. ' ' 

Chevalier  whined,  and  looked  up  at  Miss 
Fielding.  I  was  quite  ready  to  believe  the 
dog  understood  what  she  said. 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,  Chev,  you's  a  booful, 
good  doggie,  and  I  love  you!  Chevalier's 
strain  harks  back  to  the  original  Scott — he 's 
quite  a  swell,  in  his  way,  and  has  got  blue 
ribbons.  But  they  all  want  tri-colored  calico 
dogs,  now.  Go  over  and  pay  your  respects, 
Chevalier,  please!" 

The  dog  came  up  to  me,  was  patted,  and 
left  with  Nokomis,  who  was  next  instructed 
to  return  with  John  0 'Groat,  a  big  dog,  al- 
most wholly  black,  with  a  rather  blunter  muz- 
zle than  the  others. 

"John's  got  pretty  good  blood,  too,  and  his 
82 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

mother  was  from  the  Lothian  Hills,  like  Nor- 
val — no,  that  was  the  Grampians.  A  little 
hollow-backed,  and  his  forelegs  aren't  quite 
straight,  but  Jack's  a  good  dog,  aren't  you, 
Jack?  A  fine  worker,  too." 

Jack  was  certainly  listening  to  every  word 
attentively,  whether  he  understood  or  not. 
After  he  had  gone,  Nokomis  brought  up  Min- 
nehaha,  one  of  her  own  youngsters,  pure 
white. 

' 1 Poor  little  Minnie,"  said  Miss  Fielding, 
"she's  got  yellow  eyes  and  a  thin  coat,  but 
I  love  her  just  as  much!"  Taking  the  fore- 
paws  she  held  her  own  face  tantalizingly  near 
the  dog's  tongue.  "Just  as  much,  I  do.  Now 
go  over  to  Mr.  Castle,  Miss!" 

Last  of  all  came  Hiawatha,  a  frenzied, 
wriggling,  capering  puppy,  sable-and-white 
like  his  mother,  yelping,  crouching,  bounding, 
hysterical  with  joy.  Miss  Fielding  and  I  fell 
to  laughing  at  his  antics,  but  Hiawatha  was 
too  young  to  care.  He  was  up  on  top  of  my 
bed  in  half  a  minute,  and  stifling  me  with  his 
eagerness,  lapping  my  face  and  hands,  growl- 
83 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

ing,  snarling,  biting,  scratching  all  at  once. 
When  this  frisky,  capering  bunch  of  enthu- 
siasm had  departed,  quite  out  of  his  head 
with  the  excitement  of  the  visit,  Miss  Field- 
ing talked  dog  for  ten  minutes.  She  had  not 
forgotten,  however,  to  compliment  her  pets 
with  a  lump  of  sugar  apiece,  filched  from  my 
tray  and  dropped  from  the  window  with  strict 
precedence. 

"Oh,"  I  said,  looking  at  her  with  admi- 
ration, "I  do  think  your  own  name  is  the 
best!  It's  so  like  you." 

"What  d'you  mean?"  she  asked,  coming 
up  to  me. 

"Why— Joy,"  I  replied. 

"Of  course  it  is!  Isn't  it  fun  to  have  a 
name  like  that?  One  has  quite  to  live  up  to 
it,  though.  It  inspires  me,  sometimes,  when 
I'm  blue." 

"Yes;  it  has  distinction.  I  don't  see  why 
you  ever  should  prefer  Edna." 

"Oh,  Edna — "  she  said  seriously.  She 
waited  a  moment,  to  shake  from  her  skirt  the 
sand  the  dogs'  paws  had  left.  "Well,  I  do 
84 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

like  Edna,  sometimes.  It  depends  upon  my 
mood,  I  suppose.  You  know  I  told  you  I  had 
moods.  Don't  try  to  reconcile  me,  I  know 
I'm  inconsistent.  But  I'm  a  woman,"  she 
added,  looking  up  more  brightly, l '  and  I  sup- 
pose I  have  that  right." 

"I  haven't  decided  whether  you're  a 
woman  or  not,"  I  returned.  "Sometimes  I 
have  thought  you  were  a  princess  in  dis- 
guise. ' ' 

'  '  Oh,  that 's  nice  of  you !    But  why  f ' ' 

"You're  so  mysterious,  so  whimsical,  so 
detached,  so  romantic." 

"Take  care!"  she  warned  severely. 
"You  aren't  trying  to  swim  off  the  island, 
are  you?" 

I  opened  my  eyes  at  this. 

"You  still  hold  me  to  my  promise — after 
yesterday?" 

"Why  not?"  she  said,  a  little  blankly. 

"Why,  I  thought  we  were  well  off  the 
island — at  least  you  were.  I  thought  that 
you  had  given  up  the  game." 

"Why?"  she  asked,  looking  at  me  directly, 
85 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

in  seeming  surprise.    '  *  I  think  you  must  have 
mistaken  my  meaning. " 

I  couldn't  quite  get  it.  "You  asked  me  all 
sorts  of  questions,  anyway,  you  know,"  I 
ventured. 

Her  eyes  begged  for  mercy.  "I'm  sorry 
if  I  was  impertinent " 

"Oh,  I  don't  mean  that,  of  course.  You 
couldn't  be.  You  had  a  perfect  right  to  ask, 
of  course." 

"Can't  I  row  back  in  a  boat,  please?"  she 
pouted  whimsically.  "Don't  give  it  up  yet. 
Not  till  I  give  you  specific  leave  of  absence. 
I  suppose  I'm  spoiled.  I  want  my  cake  to 
keep  and  eat,  too." 

I  was  a  little  relieved  at  her  recognition 
of  her  own  inconsistency,  though  I  felt  a 
queer  hiatus  somewhere.  It  was  as  if,  men- 
tally, I  had  tried  to  go  up  a  step  where  there 
was  none.  But  I  let  the  subject  drop.  She 
took  up  the  books  on  the  stand  and  began  to 
look  them  over. 

"Don't  you  think  Leah  reads  beautifully?" 
she  asked. 

86 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

1 1 It's  charming  to  hear  her,  but/  if  you 
don't  mind,  I  prefer  to  hear  you.9' 

She  took  all  my  compliments  so  graciously, 
without  either  embarrassed  denial  or  vanity, 
that  I  loved  to  watch  her  when  I  tried  a  gal- 
lantry. Now  she  only  nodded  to  me,  sweep- 
ingly,  with  mock  deference,  and  went  on: 

"Leah  and  I  disagree  somewhat.  I  have 
more  manner,  perhaps,  and  less  rhythm. 
We  read  a  good  deal  together.  I  think  she 
sees  Browning  much  more  clearly  than  I. 
Perhaps  I  feel  him  more  keenly. ' ' 

"She's  a  remarkable  girl — I  was  going  to 
add •' for  a  negress,'  but  I  needn't  qualify  it." 

"Oh,  no!  You  don't  know  how  fine  she 
is."  Seating  herself  she  added,  as  if  to  her- 
self, in  a  sort  of  sigh:  "What  that  girl  has 
done  for  me!" 

"I  am  sure  that  she  would  say  just  that  of 
you,"  I  remarked. 

"Oh,  I  try  her  a  good  deal,  sometimes. 

Her  mother  was  my  nurse.    When  I  sent  for 

Leah,  I  didn't  expect  to  get  anything  more 

than,  perhaps,   some  of  the  hereditary  de- 

87 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

votion  darkies  have,  even  if  I  got  that.  But 
I  got  a  friend.  You  can't  trust  her  too  far, 
Mr.  Castle,  believe  me!  She's  pure  gold." 

It  happened  that,  as  she  spoke,  Leah  her- 
self came  into  the  room  with  letters  for  me. 
Miss  Fielding  took  the  girl's  hand  and 
pressed  it  against  her  own  cheek  affection- 
ately. As  she  did  so,  I  noticed  a  peculiar 
scar — a  livid  U-shaped  mark  on  Leah's  wrist. 
It  was  the  sort  of  scar  that  might  be  left 
from  the  wound  of  a  carving-tool — one  of 
the  narrower  gouges. 

"Was  I  very  horrid  yesterday,  Leah?" 
Miss  Fielding  asked,  looking  up  into  the  fine 
brown  face. 

'  *  Oh,  please,  Miss  Joy ! ' '  Leah  begged  un- 
easily. 

"Of  course  you  understand,  Leah;  I  only 
want  Mr.  Castle  to  know  I'm  sorry,"  Miss 
Fielding  insisted. 

"I  need  only  to  look  at  you  to  be  sure 

you're  sorry,  and  to  look  at  Leah  to  be  sure 

that  there's  no  need  of  it,"  I  declared.    "At 

any  rate,  there's  no  need  of  my  understand- 

88 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

ing.  In  fact  that's  just  what  I  thought  you 
didn't  want  me  to  do.  Isn't  it?" 

Leah  looked  quickly  from  me  to  Miss  Field- 
ing, and  back  again. 

"Yes,  I  suppose  it  is,"  Miss  Fielding  said 
slowly,  thoughtfully.  '  *  Let 's  get  back  on  the 
island  again.  I'm  sure  it's  big  enough  for 
us." 

We  stayed,  therefore,  "on  the  island"  all 
that  afternoon,  touching,  that  is,  but  lightly 
on  personal  topics.  But  though  we  did  not 
go  wide,  we  went  deep  enough  to  make  the 
talk  hold  us  absorbed  for  an  hour  or  more. 
In  quite  another  way,  I  think,  we  went  far, 
as  well.  Miss  Fielding  was  a  stimulating 
conversationalist.  She  made  me  feel  at  my 
best.  She  had  that  happy  way  of  meeting 
me  on  my  ground  every  little  while,  then  go- 
ing on,  and  giving  me  a  hand  up  to  hers,  and 
so,  by  a  series  of  alternate  agreements  and 
divergencies,  keeping  the  discussion  both 
sympathetic  and  various.  In  most  of  this 
quick  give-and-take  Leah  was  a  passive 
listener  unless  specially  appealed  to,  at  which 
89 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

times  she  often  expressed  herself  so  suc- 
cinctly and  sapiently  that  Miss  Fielding  and 
I  looked  at  her,  and  then  at  one  another  with 
a  comic  expression  of  admiration  and  de- 
preciation of  our  own  powers. 

With  such  conversation  the  day  went  fast. 
In  the  afternoon  Miss  Fielding  read  to  me, 
and  in  the  evening  I  spent  two  or  three  hours 
in  passive  delight  listening  to  her  violin. 

My  pain  had  almost  subsided,  now,  and  I 
looked  forward  with  something  more  poig- 
nant than  regret  at  being  able  to  be  up  and 
about,  knowing  that  would  mean  the  begin' 
ning  of  the  end  of  our  companionship. 


90 


VI 

The  next  morning  Miss  Fielding  slept  late, 
and  her  breakfast  order  was,  as  it  had  been 
two  days  before,  prosaic.  Then,  also,  she  had 
slept  late.  This  coincidence  struck  me  and 
gave  me  a  presentiment.  I  looked  curiously 
for  the  first  sight  of  her  to  confirm  or  de- 
stroy a  theory  that  I  had  been  incubating  dur- 
ing my  long  night  hours  alone.  The  fact 
that,  as  I  ate  my  breakfast,  I  could  hear  her 
whistling  in  her  room  helped  along  my  hy- 
pothesis. So  did  Leah's  apparent  mental 
detachment. 

Miss  Fielding  romped  into  my  room  at 
about  half -past  nine,  and  with  a  laugh  and  a 
"Good  morning,  Chet!"  pirouetted  up  to  my 
bed.  My  theory  instantly  gained  plausibil- 
ity. Her  manner  was  what  I  had  antici- 
pated. Her  dress,  also,  was  significant. 

She  had  on  a  fussy  sort  of  silk  waist,  in- 
91 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

appropriate,  I  thought,  with  her  cloth  walk- 
ing-skirt. Her  hair  was  elaborately  "mar- 
celled, ' '  and  she  wore  bangles  that  clinked  on 
her  wrists ;  there  was  the  same  odor  of  Santal 
that  I  had  previously  noticed.  What  war, 
most  suggestive  was  that  this  get-up  was  ap- 
parently meant  to  impress  me.  At  least,  that 
was  how  I  interpreted  her  coquettish  smile. 
I  shouldn't  care  to  say  that  she  showed  ac- 
tual poor  taste — it  was  only,  I  thought,  poor 
taste  for  her.  She  needed  such  adjuncts  of 
fashion  so  little ! 

"See  here,"  she  said,  tossing  her  head  and 
pointing  at  me  dramatically,  "you're  getting 
altogether  too  lazy !  I  think  that  you  've  been 
in  bed  long  enough.  I'm  going  to  get  you 
down-stairs  to-day.  The  doctor  said  three  or 
four  days  in  bed  would  do,  and  now  it's  five. 
How  do  you  feel?"  She  shook  the  post  of 
my  bed  with  mock  ferocity,  as  if  to  expend 
some  surplus  energy.  There  seemed  to  be 
an  extra  ounce  of  blood  in  her  this  morning. 

"Oh,   I'm  game!"  I   replied.     "Nothing 
would  suit  me  better." 
92 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"I'll  get  the  library  ready,  then;  Leah  and 
Uncle  Jerdon  will  help  you  down.  Then  you 
can  watch  me  work,  if  you  don't  mind.  I'm 
trying  to  finish  my  coffret."  She  felt 
thoughtfully  of  her  biceps.  "I'll  get  quite  a 
muscle  before  I'm  through.  I  shall  have 
driven  about  twelve  hundred  nails  by  the  time 
it's  done." 

She  walked  to  the  door,  swinging  her  arms, 
and  called,  "Leah!  Come  up  here! 
Quick!" 

Leah  appeared,  out  of  breath,  as  if,  for  the 
moment,  she  had  expected  that  an  accident 
had  happened.  She  gave  a  quick  apprehen- 
sive look  about. 

"Leah,  we're  going  to  get  Mr.  Castle  down- 
stairs to-day.  Is  Uncle  Jerdon  about?" 

"Do  you  think  Mr.  Castle  is  well  enough 
to  be  moved,  yet?"  Leah  ventured. 

"Didn't  I  say  he  was  going  down-stairs?" 
Miss  Fielding  repeated  impatiently.  "I 
think  we  can  decide  that  question.  You  do  as 
I  say.  Go  and  get  Uncle  Jerdon,  and  be 
quick  about  it,  too!" 

93 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"She's  spoiled.  She  thinks  she  runs  this 
house/'  Miss  Fielding  complained  to  me, 
when  Leah  had  left. 

I  said  nothing,  watching  her  closely.  My 
theory  was  now  pretty  well  substantiated.  I 
could  not  pass  this  scene  off  as  merely  one  of 
the  "moods"  that  she  and  Leah  had  both 
mentioned.  There  was  something  definitely 
wrong  with  Miss  Fielding  to-day — something 
more  than  a  mere  whim  of  temper.  There 
had  been  something  wrong  two  days  before, 
when  she  had  acted  similarly.  She  was  dis- 
tinctly not  herself,  if  her  normal  self  was  the 
graceful,  delicate,  tactful  creature  who  had 
first  charmed  me. 

It  was  not  only  her  mood  or  her  taste  in 
costume  that  seemed  different.  It  was  some- 
thing not  quite  describable  which  seemed  to 
permeate  her  whole  personality.  She  had 
taken  a  chair  and  sat  with  her  right  arm  cast 
up  over  the  back.  The  angle  of  her  raised 
elbow  threw  her  into  a  distinctly  awkward 
position.  Her  gestures,  too,  were  character- 
istic of  this  mysterious  difference.  When 
94 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

they  were  not  distinctly  imitative,  as  in  mim- 
icking Uncle  Jerdon's  table-manners,  they 
were  irrelevant,  mere  spasmodic  exhibitions 
of  activity — as  when  she  caught  the  fly,  or 
swung  her  arms  with  active  tennis-like  ges- 
tures. This  spontaneous  irrelevancy  she 
showed  now  in  the  way  she  doubled  her  fists 
and  brought  them  athletically  to  her  shoul- 
ders, as  she  talked,  or,  raising  her  foot  a  lit- 
tle, made  circles  with  her  toe,  showing  the 
slenderness  and  suppleness  of  her  ankle.  I 
don't  say  that  all  this  ebullition  of  high 
spirits  wasn't,  in  its  way,  charming.  It  was. 
But  it  was  different  from  the  way  she  had 
acted  yesterday.  Perhaps  I  can  best  de- 
scribe it  by  saying  that  she  seemed  quite  ten 
years  younger. 

She  sprang  up  and,  apropos  of  nothing  at 
all,  proceeded  to  dance  or  hop  sidewise  across 
the  room  and  back  hilariously,  in  sheer  ex- 
cess of  vigor.  It  was  what  she  called  "gal- 
umphing, ' '  and,  from  time  to  time,  during  the 
day,  usually  at  the  end  of  some  little  over- 
serious  conversation,  she  repeated  the  per- 
95 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

formance,  to  my  great  amusement  and  de- 
light. It  was  the  absurdly  meaningless  gam- 
boling of  a  kid,  but  it  was  so  delicious  in  its 
inconsequence  that  every  time  it  provoked  my 
laughter. 

While  we  were  talking  nonsense  there, 
Leah  came  up  with  Uncle  Jerdon.  Uncle 
Jerdon  was  distinctly  a  New  England  type — 
the  chin  -  bearded,  straw  -  chewing  farmer, 
quaintly  original,  confident,  droll.  He  was 
well  on  in  years,  a  dried-up,  wrinkled,  tooth- 
less bachelor  with  sparse,  straw-colored  hair, 
long  in  the  neck,  and  twinkling  blue  eyes  full 
of  good  nature.  He  wore  overalls  and  reeked 
of  the  stable. 

Miss  Fielding  introduced  him,  and  I  shook 
his  skinny  hand. 

"Wall,"  he  drawled,  "thinkin'  abeout 
movin',  be  ye?  I  guess  Leah  an'  me '11  make 
a  pretty  good  elevator.  I'll  help  ye  get 
dressed,  fust-off,  an'  then  we'll  take  ye  up 
tenderly,  lift  ye  with  care." 

The  two  women  left  while  I  got  my  clothes 
on.    It  felt  good  to  leave  the  bed. 
96 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"We  been  a-tinkerin'  on  that  air  machine 
o'  yourn,  but  it's  a  leetle  bit  too  much  for  us, 
I  guess,"  Uncle  Jerdon  said.  "You'll  have 
to  send  deown  a  man,  I  expect.  I  wouldn't 
ride  in  one  o'  them  pesky  things  for  all  the 
gold  of  Ophir,  no  sirree,  bob !  When  I  want 
to  go  to  ride  I  want  to  see  the  back  of  a  good 
hoss — I  know  I'll  get  home  by  sun-deown." 

He  monologued  away  thus  as  he  helped  me 
into  my  clothes,  and,  when  I  had  finished, 
called  to  Leah. 

She  came  in,  and  I  took  an  arm  of  each, 
though  I  scarcely  needed  their  help.  We 
descended  a  narrow,  paneled  stairway  slowly 
but  safely,  without  causing  me  any  pain,  and 
turned  into  a  door  on  the  left-hand  side  of 
the  lower  hall.  There  I  found  a  morris  chair 
ready  for  me,  drawn  up  before  a  wide  brick 
fireplace  where  an  oak  log  was  burning. 
Uncle  Jerdon  left  me  with  a  wink  at  seeing 
Leah  placing  a  foot-stool  for  me  and  draw- 
ing up  a  taboret  on  which  were  cigars  and 
cigarettes.  There  ensconced,  I  looked  about 
with  interest. 

97 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

It  was  a  large  room,  finished  all  in  paneled 
unvarnished  redwood,  most  beautiful  in 
color — a  lighter  red  than  mahogany,  with 
more  softness  and  bloom.  Two  sides  were 
lined  with  book-cases,  except  for  the  chimney- 
breast  ;  another  was  almost  filled  with  a  broad 
bow-window  of  leaded  glass  with  a  deep  seat 
covered  with  corduroy  cushions.  There  was 
a  narrow  shelf  supported  by  carved  brackets 
part  way  up,  and  a  cornice  above  that.  Be- 
tween the  adzed  beams  of  the  ceiling  were 
panels  of  old  Spanish  leather,  lacquered  and 
stamped.  The  whole  effect  was  a  modified 
French  Renaissance  worked  out  with  many 
charming  originalities  of  detail.  The  pilas- 
ters, and  the  elaborate  mantel  with  its  orna- 
mented moldings  and  graceful  consoles, 
showed  handicraft  of  an  interesting  sort. 
They  seemed  to  have  been  carved  by  some 
artistic  amateur,  being  boldly  cut  without  the 
machine-like  regularity  of  the  professional. 
There  was,  besides  the  unusualness  of  the 
wood,  much  to  interest  me  as  an  architect. 

The  library  was  well  filled  without  appear- 
98 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

ing  crowded,  and  everything,  furniture  and 
appointments,  betokened,  as  had  my  cham- 
ber, not  only  taste,  but  luxury.  It  was  evi- 
dent that  Miss  Fielding  was  very  well  off, 
and  knew  how  to  use  her  money.  It  was  as 
evident  that  she  had  a  strong  personality,  for 
there  were  details  that  were  unique.  A  large 
prism  of  rock-crystal,  for  instance,  carelessly 
resting  in  the  sunshine  upon  the  dull  brown 
cushions  of  the  window-seat,  threw  a  pris- 
matic spot  of  splendor  upon  the  ceiling.  It 
was  like  a  gorgeous  butterfly  pinned  to  the 
leather.  There  was  a  silver  cage  of  waltzing 
Japanese  mice  upon  the  mantel,  little  gro- 
tesque, pied  creatures  that  spun  wheels, 
washed  their  necks  with  their  paws  and 
nibbled  at  rice.  The  books,  too,  were  ar- 
ranged upon  the  shelves  apparently  not  as  re- 
gards subjects,  but  rather  on  account  of  their 
bindings,  giving  masses  of  color,  green  and 
red  and  brown  and  black  and  white. 

But  it  had  all  been  indubitably  so  well  lived 
in,  its  properties  all  ministered  so  to  one's 
comfort,  and  the  tones  were  all  so  restful  and 
99 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

admirably  composed,  that  I  could  imagine  no 
more  charming  environment  for  a  rainy  day 
with  Miss  Fielding. 

A  great  library  table  stood  in  the  center  of 
the  apartment,  one  end  of  which  was  covered 
with  magazines — everything  from  The  Jour- 
nal of  Abnormal  Psychology  to  the  Pink  'Un. 
Upon  the  other  end,  resting  on  a  hide  of 
ooze  leather,  were  scattered  tools  and  ma- 
terials, and  the  unfinished  chest  upon  which 
Miss  Fielding  had  been  working.  This  was 
covered  with  young  calfskin,  the  soft  hair 
still  on,  a  pretty  brindled  tan  and  white,  and 
it  was  bound  on  the  edges  with  brass  strips. 
These  were  fastened  in  place  by  close  rows  of 
brass-headed  nails,  which  accounted  for  the 
pounding  I  had  heard.  I  was  admiring  the 
workmanlike  way  in  which  the  chest  was 
made,  when  Miss  Fielding  came  in. 

"What  d'you  think  of  my  'bossy  coffret'?" 
she  said.  "Isn't  it  going  to  be  a  beauty! 
My  own  invention.  Don't  steal  the  scheme, 
and  I'll  show  you  how." 

She  stood  up  to  the  table,  and,  taking  one 
100 


THE    WHITE    GAT 

of  the  brass  strips,  laid  off  the  divisions  and 
punched  holes  for  the  nails,  and  then  ham- 
mered it  on.  She  kept  up,  meanwhile,  a  run- 
ning fire  of  persiflage.  Occasionally  she 
would  stop  to  toss  her  hammer  into  the  air 
and  catch  it  nimhly  by  the  handle  as  it  fell. 

"I  thought  you  were  going  to  call  me 
Edna,"  she  said  after  a  while,  pausing  with 
some  nails  in  her  mouth  to  look  over  at  me. 
"Don't  you  like  the  name?" 

"I  thought  you  didn't  like  it,"  I  said,  my 
eyes  turning  from  her  brisk,  clever  hands,  to 
her  absorbed  face.  A  wave  passed  over  it  as 
I  looked — that  baffled  expression  I  had  no- 
ticed before. 

* '  Did  I  say  so  V '  Her  hammer  was  poised 
in  mid  air. 

"Why,  didn't  you?" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  suppose  so.  It  doesn't  mat- 
ter. Nicknames  seldom  stick,  anyway." 
She  placed  a  nail  in  the  hole. 

"Oh,  I  don't  object  to  'Chef  at  all." 

"  'Chef  goes,  then."  She  drove  in  her 
nail  with  a  frown. 

101 


THE 


WHITE    CAT 

Before  I  had  thought  of  my  promise,  I 
said:  "It's  funny  you  don't  remember  it!" 

Bang,  bang-bang!  Another  nail  went  in, 
driven  viciously. 

I  fully  expected  that  she  would  speak  of 
"the  island"  again,  but  she  didn't.  Instead, 
she  dropped  her  tools,  and  said : 

"I'm  building  a  house,  too!" 

"Where?"  I  asked. 

She  laughed  and  galumphed  across  the 
room  and  back  again  without  looking  at  me, 
before  she  answered.  Then  she  stopped  at 
the  door  and  called  up  for  Leah  to  bring 
down  her  bunch  of  keys.  When  these  had 
come,  she  knelt  in  front  of  the  window-seat 
and  unlocked  a  cupboard  below  it.  From 
this  she  brought  out  a  little  model  house, 
built  of  pasteboard,  perfect  in  all  its  details. 

It  had  windows  of  mica,  behind  which  were 
white  sashes  and  lace-paper  curtains.  The 
house,  an  old-fashioned  New  England  home- 
stead, was  placed  in  a  little  yard  of  green 
velvet  divided  by  paths  of  sandpaper,  and  set 
out  with  toy  trees.  A  child  would  have  loved 
102 


THE    WHITE    GAT 

it.  A  fairy  would  have  appropriated  it  at 
first  sight.  As  an  architect,  the  model  made 
a  great  appeal  to  me.  It  had  charm  and 
atmosphere,  good  massing,  good  proportions, 
detail  and  color.  I  complimented  her  en- 
thusiastically. 

She  was  poking  about  the  little  front  porch 
and  the  platform  in  the  rear,  where  a  minia- 
ture ash-barrel  stood,  adjusting  the  doors 
and  blinds  with  her  slender  forefinger,  when 
she  frowned  and  said : 

"Why,  some  one's  broken  that  tree  in 
front!  Leah,  have  you  been  touching  this 
house?  There's  a  blind  gone,  too!" 

"No,  Miss  Joy,  I  haven't  touched  it !"  Leah 
protested. 

Miss  Fielding  stamped  her  foot.  "You 
must  have!  It  was  all  right  when  I  left  it 
here  last.  Who  could  have  done  it,  if  you 
didn't!" 

Leah  grew  more  and  more  uneasy,  but 
stood  her  ground.  "Indeed,  I  didn't  touch 
it,  Miss  Joy ! ' '  she  repeated. 

"You're  all  the  time  meddling  with  my 
103 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

things.  IVe  caught  you  at  it  before.  You 
know  altogether  too  much.  Well,  go  back  to 
your  work  now ! ' ? 

Leah  left  in  silence,  and  Miss  Fielding  put 
back  the  house  and  locked  it  up.  A  hard 
look  came  into  her  face  that  I  had  not  seen 
before. 

Her  temper  passed  off  almost  as  soon  as 
it  had  risen,  and  she  was  as  gay  as  before. 
So  until  luncheon-time,  she  worked  while  I 
looked  over  the  magazines  and  talked  with 
her. 

We  sat,  at  luncheon,  on  opposite  sides  of 
the  table  in  a  long  and  rather  narrow  room 
without  windows,  lighted  by  a  huge  skylight. 
The  walls  of  this  strange  place  were  covered 
with  an  old-fashioned  imitation  tapestry  pa- 
per whose  fanciful  patterns  consisted  of  con- 
secutive scenes  from  The  Lady  of  the  Lake. 
Everything  about  the  table  was  heavy,  spot- 
less, valuable  and  old,  from  the  yellow  linen 
to  the  hand-made  forks  and  spoons.  We 
were  waited  upon  by  King,  a  smiling,  round- 
faced  Chinaman  with  a  cue  coiled  up  on  top 
104 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

of  his  head,  and  wearing  a  snowy  white  uni- 
form. He  moved  like  a  ghost  in  and  out. 
Leah  and  Uncle  Jerdon  I  noticed,  when  the 
door  was  opened,  eating  at  a  table  in  the 
kitchen. 

Miss  Fielding  and  I  spent  the  afternoon 
together  in  the  library.  She  worked  and 
talked  alternately ;  it  appeared  that  she  could 
not  do  both  at  once,  and  always  had  to  stop 
with  her  tool  in  hand  when  she  spoke  to  me, 
like  a  child.  Occasionally  she  would  come 
over  to  my  chair  and  seat  herself  familiarly 
upon  the  arm  as  she  joked  with  me.  Then 
she  would  spring  up,  to  galumph  up  and 
down  the  room,  sidewise,  running  her  hand 
mischievously  through  my  hair  as  she  passed. 
I  took  no  notice  of  the  liberty,  but  I  was  a 
little  surprised  at  it.  It  began  to  rain  that 
afternoon  and  by  five  o'clock  it  was  so  dark 
that  Leah  came  in  to  light  the  candles  in  the 
silver  sconces  on  the  walls.  Miss  Fielding's 
spirits  were  gradually  tamed.  I  asked  her  to 
play  the  violin  for  me  but  she  refused  mood- 
ily without  excuses. 

105 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

Our  talk  fell  to  books,  and  I  went  back  to 
Leah's  surprising  love  for  Browning. 

"Oh,  Leah  knows  more  than  is  good  for 
her,"  Miss  Fielding  said.  She  was  on  the 
window-seat,  looking  out  at  the  steadily  fall- 
ing rain,  her  feet  curled  up  under  her. 
"Leah's  so  educated  that  she's  unhappy;  it's 
a  great  mistake,  that.  I  can't  seem  to  keep 
her  in  her  place  any  more.  But  really,  I 
don't  see  any  poetry  in  Browning,  do  you?" 

"Why!"  I  said,  "I  thought  you  were  fond 
of  Browning — that  you  'felt'  him,  even  if 
you  didn't  'see'  him.  Didn't  Leah  do  that 
for  you?" 

"Leah!  Fancy!  What  d'you  mean  by 
'seeing'  and  'feeling'  him,  anyway?"  She 
turned  to  me  with  her  chin  resting  on  the 
curled  back  of  her  hand. 

"They're  your  own  words,"  I  answered, 
testily  perhaps. 

She  opened  her  eyes  wider.  "Oh,  I  mean 
what  do  you  mean?" 

I  didn't  answer. 

"If  I  said  it,"  she  continued  slowly,  as  if 
106 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

searching  for  a  plausible  excuse,  and  then 
giving  it  up,  "I  suppose  I  was  trying  to  im- 
press you.  You  mustn't  expect  me  to  be  con- 
sistent all  the  time." 

"I'll  never  expect  you  to  be  again,"  I  said, 
now  irritated  by  her  contrariness.  I  suppose 
I  showed  it  in  my  tone. 

She  came  right  over  to  me,  and  took  my 
hand,  sitting  on  the  arm  of  my  chair.  ' l  Oh, 
Chet,"  she  pleaded,  "don't  mind  me.  I'm  a 
fool,  and  I  know  it.  I  know  you  don't  ap- 
prove of  me  any  more,  but  I  can't  stand  it  to 
have  you  cross  with  me.  I  can't  bluff  you 
any  longer,  so  I  might  as  well  tell  you.  The 
fact  is,  my  memory  is  bad.  It's  really  a 
disease.  Amnesia  is  the  name  of  it.  Now  do 
you  see!  It  isn't  my  fault,  is  it?  I  can't 
depend  upon  myself  for  anything.  Some- 
times I  absolutely  forget  all  about  a  thing 
that  happened  only  yesterday.  I  have  great 
blank  spaces  in  my  life  when  I  don't  know 
what  has  happened.  It's  perfectly  awful! 
Did  you  ever  hear  of  any  one  like  thati" 

"Do  you  really  mean  to  tell  me  that  you 
107 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

forget  what  you  said  to  me  about  Brown- 
ing ?"  I  asked  her,  taking  her  hand,  for  I 
was  filled  with  a  sudden  pity. 

"Yes,  Chet,  sure  I  do!"  She  rolled  my 
seal  ring  between  her  fingers  as  she  looked 
down. 

"And  about  preferring  'Joy'  to  'Edna', 
too?" 

"Oh,  did  I  say  that,  too?    Yes,  I  forget." 

"It  doesn't  seem  possible!"  I  exclaimed. 
Then,  tentatively,  almost  fearfully,  for  it 
seemed  the  crux :  ' '  And  about '  the  island '  ? " 
I  held  my  breath. 

"What  'island'?" 

I  dropped  her  hand.  It  was  too  much  for 
me.  "Oh,  never  mind."  I  sighed.  "I'm 
very  sorry.  But  I  don't  quite  see,  yet.  Has 
this  anything  to  do  with  your  refusal  to  play 
for  me?" 

She  rose,  now,  and  tossed  her  head  back, 
with  that  shake  I  had  noticed  before.  The 
gesture  seemed  to  be  the  only  link  between  her 
two  moods,  and,  for  a  moment,  she  seemed 
to  be  again  the  melancholy  princess.  But  the 
108 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

phase  passed  instantly,  and  she  grew  petu- 
lant. 

"I  don't  know  how  to  play  well  enough. 
It  bores  me." 

I  refused  to  let  her  off,  however.  "Then 
how  about  playing  chess!" 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  said : ' '  Oh, 
I  haven't  got  the  kind  of  brain  for  chess." 

My  mind  leaped  over  the  remark,  obviously 
untrue,  to  get  to  the  other  side  of  the  perver- 
sity, where  I  might  see  more  clearly. 

' '  But  it 's  incredible ! "  I  cried.  ' '  How  do 
you  get  along!  How  do  you  account  for 
things!  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you 
can't  remember  yesterday,  for  instance! 
Not  even  what  you  did!" 

She  was  growing  more  and  more  impatient. 
* '  No — sometimes  I  don 't  know  how  much  time 
I've  lost  at  all.  You  see,  it's  like  being 
asleep,  that's  all.  That's  what  Doctor  Copin 
comes  down  here  for." 

"Oh,  I  see!"  I  exclaimed. 

"That,  and  other  things — "  she  hinted  co- 
quettishly. 

109 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"Ah?"  I  raised  my  eyebrows.  "Among 
the  other  things,  I  suppose,  is  the  fact  that 
you're  perfectly  charming." 

"Oh,  I  don't  think  he  quite  ignores  that," 
she  laughed,  and  then,  her  mood  changing,  as 
'A  it  had  been  pent  up  by  such  serious  dis- 
cussion and  sought  relief,  she  bounded  away 
and  galumphed  madly  up  and  down  the  room, 
waving  her  hands. 

After  dinner  we  spent  the  evening  by  the 
fire.  She  had  put  on  an  evening  gown  of 
black  net  over  silver  tissue,  in  which  she 
looked  more  like  a  princess  than  ever.  But 
it  was  only  the  costume  now;  her  demeanor 
was  far  from  royal.  She  snuggled  herself 
into  a  bunch  on  the  fur  rug  by  the  hearth, 
disclosing  one  slender  ankle  and  a  stocking 
of  snaky  silver  silk.  Had  she  not  been  so 
slender  and  petite,  I  might  almost  say  she 
sprawled,  though  her  hoidenish  abandon  was 
not  quite  immodest.  She  had  her  coffee  and 
a  cigarette  or  two,  chattering  a  steady  stream 
meanwhile.  I  could  get  no  more  about  her 
malady  out  of  her;  the  subject  seemed  to  an- 
110 


After  dinner  we  spent  the  evening  by  the  fire.     Page  no 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

noy  her.  But  I  could  not  get  it  out  of  my 
raind.  I  went  back  over  what  had  passed, 
and  found  that  her  explanation  accounted  for 
much  that  had  baffled  me.  Still,  it  did  not 
account  for  everything.  It  did  not  account, 
for  instance,  for  the  way  she  now  treated  me. 

She  got  up,  after  a  while,  as  if  annoyed  at 
my  abstraction,  and  began  to  roam  up  and 
down  the  room. 

"I  guess  coffee  makes  me  a  little  drunk," 
she  remarked.  I  did  not  quite  get  the  point 
of  this  till  she  stopped  behind  my  chair  and 
ran  her  fingers  through  my  hair  carelessly. 

"What  a  jolly  wig  you've  got,  Chet!  Your 
hair  is  almost  as  fine  as  mine." 

The  familiarity  made  me,  I  confess,  some- 
what uncomfortable.  I  was  neither  a  prig 
nor  a  prude,  but  her  talk  of  the  afternoon  had 
wrought  on  me.  I  couldn't  quite  see  my  way. 
I  didn't  at  all  like,  for  instance,  what  she 
had  said  about  Doctor  Copin's  coming  down 
— for  more  than  one  reason.  Perhaps  it  was 
this,  more  than  any  instinctive  dislike  of  her 
unconventionality,  that  put  me  on  my  guard 
111 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

with  her,  and  made  me  appear  to  ignore  what 
I  acknowledge,  in  other  circumstances  I 
might  have  been  tempted  to  take  advantage 
of.  For  she  was  distinctly  making  up  to  me. 
I  could  see  that  very  plainly.  She  did  like 
me.  So  I  was  unchivalrous  enough,  or 
chivalrous  enough,  if  you  like,  to  try  to  keep 
her  at  arm's  length,  though  that  is  putting  it 
rather  too  strongly. 

It  was  not  so  easy,  though,  that  night,  with 
the  seclusion,  the  comfortable  open  fire,  the 
soft  lights,  and  the  rain  outside.  The  situa- 
tion was  romantic ;  I  was  alone  with  'a  pretty 
girl,  prettily  gowned,  and  quite  frankly  de- 
sirous of  a  little  more  intimate  companion- 
ship than  I  vouchsafed.  Somehow  I  was 
rather  proud  of  myself,  having  at  that  time, 
after  all,  such  hazy  reasons  for  forbearance. 
I  scarcely  need  add  to  this  that  I  was  be- 
coming fond  of  Miss  Fielding,  in  spite  of  the 
puzzling  mystery  about  her.  She  was  allur- 
ing in  any  mood.  My  intuitions,  however, 
were  all  for  caution. 

With  such  distractions  the  hours  flew  fast 
112 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

The  candles  burned  low  and  flickered  till  we 
talked  only  by  the  light  of  the  fire.  She  told 
me  a  good  deal  of  her  life  as  a  girl — there 
were  no  lapses  of  memory  at  that  time — how 
she  had  been  left  an  orphan  and  had  always 
been  more  or  less  of  a  hermit  thereafter. 
Part  of  the  time  she  played  with  my  hand, 
quite  as  a  child  might.  Part  of  the  time  she 
sat,  her  chin  at  her  knees,  gazing  into  the  dy- 
ing flames  in  the  fireplace.  Then  she  would 
smile,  look  up  suddenly,  and  quote  some  non- 
sense rhyme,  or  make  fun  of  my  discretion. 
Her  body  was  never  quite  still ;  she  was  ner- 
vous and  restless.  If  nothing  else  about  her 
moved,  her  toe  would  be  describing  little  cir- 
cles on  the  rug. 

She  and  Leah  helped  me  up-stairs  at  ten 
o'clock.  Miss  Fielding  flung  me  a  cheery 
' '  Good  night,  Chet ! ' '  and  went  into  her  room 
alone. 

A  few  minutes  after,  I  heard  a  soft  tapping 
at  my  door.  Leah  was  there  with  a  jug  of 
milk  and  some  biscuits. 

1  i  I  thought  you  might  like  something  to  eatj 
113 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

perhaps,  before  you  went  to  bed/'  she  said. 
"Miss  Joy  forgot  to  speak  of  it." 

"Thank  you,  Leah,"  I  said,  taking  the 
little  tray.  I  was  about  to  close  the  door 
when  she  gave  me  a  look  that  delayed  me. 

"Did  you  want  anything  else?"    I  asked. 

"Do  you  mind  if  I  speak  to  you  for  a 
minute?"  she  asked.  She  stopped  and  lis- 
tened intently  for  a  moment. 

"Leah,  where  in  the  world  are  you?" 
Miss  Fielding  called  impatiently. 

Leah  spoke  in  an  undertone  to  me. 
"Please  wait.  I'll  be  in  as  soon  as  I  can." 
Then  she  went  into  Miss  Fielding's  room. 

I  left  my  door  ajar  and  sat  down  by  the 
window.  The  rain  had  ceased,  and  a  full 
moon  was  breaking  through  masses  of  drift- 
ing cumulous  clouds  over  the  top  of  the  hill 
behind  the  house.  I  could  hear  the  dogs 
snapping  and  growling  occasionally  in  their 
sleep,  and  below,  in  his  little  box  of  a  room 
off  the  library,  Uncle  Jerdon's  deep  snoring. 
I  must  have  been  there  for  fifteen  minutes  be- 
fore Leah  reappeared  \,ith  her  candle.  She 
114 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

shut  the  door  noiselessly  and  came  softly  up 
to  my  side. 

"Mr.  Castle,  how  are  you  feeling,  now?" 
she  asked. 

"Oh,  I'm  afraid  I'm  getting  well,"  I  said, 
smiling.  "Why?  Do  you  think  I  ought  to 
be  leaving?"  I  asked  the  question  jocosely, 
but  she  took  it  up  with  seriousness. 

"I'm  really  afraid  you'd  better,  Mr.  Cas- 
tle." She  looked  me  square  in  the  eyes. 
Her  own  shone  very  wide  and  deep. 

"I  don't  wish  to  hurry  you,"  she  went  on, 
"but  it  will  be  much  better  for  you  to  leave 
as  soon  as  you  can.  You'll  forgive  me  for 
mentioning  it,  won't  you?  I  hope  that  you 
won't  think  that  I  don't  realize  my  position; 
but — I  can  only  say  that  I  am  doing  what  I 
think  is  best.  If  I  weren't  so  sure  that  you 
are  a  gentleman,  and  a  friend  of  Miss  Joy's, 
I'd  never  dare  mention  it.  But,  oh,  there'll 
be  trouble  if  you  stay,  and  Heaven  knows 
we've  had  trouble  enough."  Her  voice  grew 
lower  at  the  end  of  her  sentence,  and  then 
she  breathed  poignantly,  "Oh,  please  go!" 
115 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

I  felt  a  pang  of  self-reproach  and  a  great 
pity  for  her.  "Oh,  I'll  go !"  I  reassured  her. 
"I  understand.  Or,  at  least,  if  I  don't  quite 
understand,  I'm  sure  you're  quite  right.  I 
think  I  can  get  away  to-morrow  morning,  if 
you'll  get  the  carriage  for  me." 

"I'll  attend  to  that.  Uncle  Jerdon  can 
drive  you  to  the  station.  And  don't,  please, 
mention  it  to  Miss  Joy  that  I  spoke  to  you 
about  it.  She  may  ask  you  to  stay — she  likes 
you,  really;  but  she  doesn't  know  what  I 
know,  and  I  don't  dare  tell  her."  She 
clasped  her  hands  and  pressed  them  closely  to 
her  breast  in  the  intensity  of  her  feeling,  as 
she  added,  "You  must  help  me,  Mr.  Castle! 
I  have  nobody  else  to  turn  to." 

"Are  you  sure  that  I  can't  help  you  by 
staying  here?"  I  asked.  "I'll  do  anything 
you  suggest.  Why  can't  you  trust  me?  I 
dread  to  think  of  your  having  to  fight  it  out 
alone,  whatever  it  is." 

"Oh,  I  don't  dare  to  tell — I  have  no  right 
to  tell,"  she  moaned,  turning  half  away,  look- 
ing down.    "Indeed,  I  wish  I  might.    It's 
116 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

breaking  my  heart. ' '  She  turned  to  me  again 
with  a  desperate  glance.  "We'll  get  on, 
somehow. ' ' 

"The  doctor  will  help  you,  won't  he? 
Surely  you  can  trust  him?" 

She  gave  me  a  frightened  look,  and  her 
white  teeth  shone  through  her  parted  lips, 
gleaming  in  contrast  to  her  fine  dark  face. 
Then  her  eyes  strayed  again,  and  she  said, 
slowly,  "Do  you  think  he  can  be  trusted?" 

"Why  not?"  I  replied,  watching  her 
shaxply.  "How,  at  any  rate,  can  I  tell,  af- 
ter having  seen  him  only  once  ? ' ' 

She  gave  a  quick  indrawn  sigh.  ' '  Oh,  once 
was  enough  for  me!" 

"You  mean — that  you  don't  trust  him?"  I 
exclaimed  in  surprise. 

"I  mean  I'm  not  sure  that  I  do."  She 
was  speaking  slowly  now,  choosing  her  words 
with  an  effort.  "That's  quite  as  bad,  isn't 
it?  For  I  don't  know  what  to  do  about  him. 
I  am  afraid  that  I  may  make  things  worse, 
perhaps. ' ' 

"You're  sure  that  you  can't  tell  me?7' 
Ill 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"Oh,  I  daren't!  If  I  were  only  sure,  I 
might,  but  even  then  it  would  be  hard. "  Her 
voice  was  plaintive,  and  yet  her  accent  was 
decisive. 

There  was  a  pause  in  which  I  thought  of 
many  things.  As  I  waited,  uncertain,  my 
eyes  stayed  on  the  fine,  erect,  colored  girl  be- 
fore me,  so  passionately  loyal  to  her  mistress, 
so  delicately  sensitive  to  the  anomalous  part 
she  was  playing.  Though  her  resolution  had 
in  no  way  broken  down,  I  could  see  how  she 
was  wrought  upon,  how  difficult  a  position 
was  hers  in  that  strange  house. 

"Well,"  I  said  finally,  "there's  of  course 
nothing  for  me  to  do,  then,  but  to  leave.  Miss 
Fielding  has  told  me  explicitly  that  your 
judgment  can  be  depended  upon.  I  have  no 
right  here,  of  course ;  I'm  an  interloper 

She  put  a  dark,  well-shaped  hand  on  my 
arm,  in  timid  reproach. 

"Yet,  I  hope  you  can  trust  me,"  I  added, 
not  hesitating  to  clasp  that  hand  in  friend- 
ship and  confidence. 

She  took  it  away  quickly,  but  looked  at  me 
118 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

with  her  soul  in  her  dark  eyes.  "Oh,  I'm 
sure  of  you ! ' '  she  said  simply. 

"You  make  it  very  hard  for  me  to  go,"  I 
ventured. 

"I  shall  think  of  you,"  she  replied.  "I 
shall  long  for  your  strength  and  judgment. 
I  must  think  it  over,  more,  and  try  to  decide 
on  a  line  of  action.  It  may  be — I  won't 
promise — that  I  shall  send  for  you  to  come 
down." 

"I'll  come  at  a  moment's  notice!"  I  ex- 
claimed. "Oh,  do  let  me  help  in  some  way!" 

"Would  you?"  She  clasped  her  hands  to 
her  breast  again  and  sighed,  as  if  I  had 
really  helped  her  by  my  promise.  Then, 
"I'm  glad  to  be  able  to  know  that.  Miss  Joy 
likes  you.  I  think  you  have  a  rare  sympathy 
for  her  condition.  It's  a  relief.  Then  we'll 
leave  it  that  way.  So  you'll  go? 

"To-morrow  morning,"  I  answered. 


119 


vn 

We  met,  next  morning,  in  the  library,  for  I 
tould  move  alone,  now,  and  had  gone  down 
early.  My  hostess,  dressed  in  white  duck, 
was  in  her  most  exquisitely  graceful  mood, 
quite  the  delicate,  refined,  intense  woman  I 
had  first  known. 

"Do  you  really  think  that  it's  safe  for  you 
to  leave  to-day ?"  she  asked,  when  I  had  an- 
nounced my  intention  to  her.  "I  am  afraid 
we  shall  miss  you  very  much,  Mr.  Castle.  I 
feel  quite  as  if  I  had  made  a  friend." 

"If  you  do,  it  more  than  repays  me  for  my 
accident,  Miss  Fielding.  It  only  remains  for 
you  to  prove  it  by  permitting  me  to  do  some- 
thing for  you." 

She  smiled  quickly.  "Stay  here  a  while 
longer,  then!" 

120 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"Ah,  you  know  how  glad  I'd  be  to!  But 
I  really  must  get  back.  I  Ve  imposed  on  your 
hospitality  unconscionably,  already." 

' '  Oh,  well, ' '  she  turned  to  the  window, ' '  if 
you're  going  to  pay  me  the  conventional  com- 
pliments, we  won't  press  it." 

"If  you  knew  what  an  immensely  unwar- 
ranted interest  I've  begun  to  take  in  you, 
you'd  spare  me,"  I  replied. 

She  held  out  her  hand  to  me,  her  graceful 
fingers  slightly  divergent,  exquisitely  posed. 
"Thank  you  for  your  gallantry,"  she  said. 
"You  came  out  of  the  dark,  were  literally 
dumped  here,  you  know,  and  it  has  been  won- 
derful that  we  have  understood  each  other 
as  well  as  we  have."  She  stayed  my  inter- 
ruption, with  a  wave  of  her  hand.  "Oh,  I 
understand  you,  I  think,  at  least  well  enough 
to  be  sure  of  you.  But,  let's  be  frank — you 
don't  quite  understand  me,  yet.  You  don't 
quite  approve  of  me.  Nevertheless,  you  like 
me,  and  we  can  be  friends.  It  may  indeed  be 
that  I  shall  put  you,  sometime,  to  the  test, 
and  give  you  the  chance  of  proving  it.  Until 
121 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

that  time  comes,  you'll  have  to  stay  on  the 
island,  Mr.  Castle,  I'm  afraid." 

I  saw  by  these  words  that  she  must  have 
forgotten  her  revelations  of  the  night  before. 
It  didn't  seem  quite  fair  not  to  let  her  know. 
So,  risking  her  displeasure,  I  came  out  with 
it. 

' '  May  I  venture  to  remind  you  of  what  you 
said  last  night  I" 

She  looked  hard  at  me.  "What  did  I 
say?  What  do  you  mean?  About  what? 
We  talked  of  so  many  things,  you  know." 
She  was  embarrassed,  on  the  defense,  watch- 
ing eagerly  my  first  word  of  enlightenment. 

"About  your  memory,"  I  prompted. 

"My  memory?  I  don't  quite  recall — " 
Her  lips  were  parted  and  her  fists  closed  a 
little  as  she  waited. 

"About  your  having  amnesia,  you  know." 

Her  hand  went  to  her  heart. 

"I  only  mention  it,"  I  said,  "because  I 
don't  want  to  take  advantage  of  any  igno- 
rance you  may  have  concerning  my  position 
— and  what  I  do  know.  If  you  have  forgot- 
122 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

ten  possibly,  I  think  I  ought  to  tell  you,  for  I 
can't  pretend  to  be  on  the  island  when  I  am 
not.  It  seems  to  me  that  quite  in  spite  of  my- 
self I've  got  off  it.  What  you  said  about 
Doctor  Copin " 

She  caught  me  up,  now,  a  little  wildly,  dis- 
carding further  attempt  at  evasion.  Her 
face  had  suddenly  grown  white.  "What  did 
I  say?"  she  asked. 

"Oh,  only  that  he  was  treating  you  for  the 
amnesia,"  I  replied.  I  couldn't  possibly  re- 
peat the  rest  of  it. 

She  put  her  hands  to  her  face  for  a  mo- 
ment, hiding  its  expression.  Then  she  with- 
drew them,  compressed  her  lips,  and,  tipping 
her  head  back  a  little,  shook  it  with  the  old 
gesture,  as  if  to  regain  control  of  herself. 
Then  she  came  up  to  me  and  put  both  her 
hands  on  my  shoulders. 

"It  isn't  your  fault,  I  know,  Mr.  Castle. 
But  you  are  off  the  island,  and  I'm  afraid — 
that  it's  all  over,  now." 

"Isn't  it  really  all  begun,  rather?"  I  re- 
plied, 

123 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

Her  hands  dropped  to  her  sides,  and  she 
walked  away  to  the  window.  "Oh,  I  don't 
know,  I  don't  know!"  she  moaned.  "You 
have  made  me  think  terrible  things.  But 
'never  mind.  I  didn't  want  you  to  know  about 
me,  I  hoped  we  could  be  friends  without.  I 
couldn't  risk  it,  I  can't  risk  it  now.  You 
mustn't  try  to  find  out,  you  mustn't  even 
wonder.  Just  be  a  little  sorry  for  me — and 
wait." 

She  sat  down  in  the  broad  window-seat,  and 
laid  her  head  back  for  a  moment  among  the 
silk  pillows,  with  a  wearied  settling  of  her 
body,  closing  her  eyes.  I  didn't  know  what 
to  say  or  do,  so  I  did  nothing,  and  was  silent. 
She  sat  up  again,  took  the  crystal  prism  that 
still  lay  there,  and  gazed  into  it  abstractedly, 
as  if  she  were  seeing  visions.  Then,  still 
holding  it,  she  looked  up  at  me  with  a  far- 
away smile.  It  was  a  new  expression  I  saw 
on  her  face ;  it  had  the  pathetic  look  of  some 
elf,  lost  in  a  strange,  terrible  land.  At  last 
she  said,  ' '  Come  over  here,  and  sit  down  be- 
side me,  please!" 

124 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

I  did  so ;  and,  still  fondling  the  prism,  which 
shot  prismatic  colors  into  the  room,  she  said, 
as  with  great  effort: 

"Did  you  ever,  in  your  childhood,  read  the 
story  of  the  White  Cat?  It's  a  fairy  tale, 
you  know." 

The  name  had  struck  me  as  familiar  when 
she  used  it  before,  but  I  could  not  recall  the 
story. 

"It  was  one  of  those  tales  of  the  three 
quests,  wasn't  it?"  I  said. 

"Yes;  there  are  many  variations  of  the 
same  theme.  It  is  the  story  of  a  king  and  his 
three  sons.  The  father  decided  first  to  leave 
his  throne  to  the  one  who  would  find  the 
smallest  dog  in  the  world ;  then  he  gave  them 
another  quest,  to  find  a  piece  of  cloth  that 
would  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle.  Of 
course,  the  youngest  son  won  each  time,  but 
the  king  wasn't  contented,  and  for  the  final 
test  commanded  them  to  find  the  most  beau- 
tiful lady  in  the  world." 

"And  the  youngest  son  won,  of  course. 
He  always  does,  but  he  never  plays  fair. 
125 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

He's  always  helped  by  a  fairy  godmother 
or  something. ' ' 

' '  Of  course.  Such  are  the  ethics  of  Fairy- 
land. This  prince  was  helped  by  a  white  cat. 
"While  he  was  on  his  travels  he  found  her 
castle  in  a  deep  forest,  and  he  was  carried  in 
by  invisible  hands." 

"  Just  like  me,"  I  remarked. 

She  looked  at  me  for  a  moment  with  an 
amusing  expression  of  surprise,  and  a  timid 
smile  crept  to  her  face.  "That's  so,  isn't 
it?  How  queer!  Why,  I'll  have  to  give  you 
my  little  Hiawatha,  to  carry  it  out,  won't  II 
Will  you  take  him?" 

"Oh,  if  you  would!"  I  said.  "I'd  love 
to  have  him.  It  will  be  delightful  to  have 
something  that  has  belonged  to  you." 

"He's  not  the  smallest  dog  in  the  world, 
but  he's  yours." 

"And  the  third  quest?"  I  reminded  her. 

"The  third  quest  was  the  hardest  of  all. 
He  came  to  White  Cat's  castle  again,  and  he 
stayed  a  year.  They  had  a  most  delightful 
time  together." 

126 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"I  can  understand  that.  Just  as  we  have 
had." 

Her  gaze  went  down  to  her  feet.  "Yes, 
just  as  we  have  had  here  at  Midmeadows. " 

I  reached  over  and  took  the  prism  from 
her  hand.  I  couldn't  help  wanting  to  touch 
her,  however  casually. 

"And  of  course — you  don't  need  to  tell  me 
— he  did  find  the  fairest  lady  in  the  whole 
world." 

She  smiled  dimly  and  clasped  her  hands. 
"Thank  you,"  she  said,  not  too  absorbed  to 
pay  me  most  graciously  for  my  compliment. 
Then,  more  seriously,  she  added,  "Yes,  I  am 
the  White  Cat.  That  is  the  way  you  must 
think  of  me,  when  you  have  gone.  The  en- 
chanted White  Cat !" 

I  dared  not  answer.  All  the  peculiar 
moods  she  had  shown  me  came  up  for  a  new 
vision.  So  she  knew  that  something  was  the 
matter,  something  of  which  her  amnesia  was 
only  a  symptom.  She  had  never  come  so 
close  to  it  before.  I  stooped  down,  took  her 
hand  and  carried  it  to  my  lips. 
127 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

" White  Cat,"  I  said,  "I  don't  know 
whether  you  are  enchanted  or  not,  but  I  know 
you're  enchanting !" 

"Be  careful  I  don't  scratch  you!"  she  said, 
a  little  bitterly. 

"Ah,  White  Cat  never  did  that,  I'm  sure." 

"Yes,  once,  when  she  was  invisible.  The 
Prince  doubted  her.  Do  you  know  how  it 
ended?"  she  asked. 

"How?" 

"White  Cat  told  the  Prince  that,  to  destroy 
the  fatal  work  of  the  fairies,  it  was  neces- 
sary for  him  to  cut  off  her  head  and  her  tail 
and  fling  them  into  the  fire."  She  put  her 
hand  gently  upon  mine.  "Would  you  do 
that  for  me,  if  I  asked  it?" 

I  puzzled  with  it.  There  was  something 
tragic  in  her  tone,  but  I  was  quite  at  a  loss 
to  interpret  her  symbolism. 

"Would  it  ever  come  to  that?  Are  you 
likely  to  call  on  me?"  I  asked  her. 

She  tipped  back  her  head  again,  shaking 
away  some  unpleasant  idea. 

"Ah,  this  is  only  the  first  quest,  you  know. 
128 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

You  may  never  come  again  to  my  palace. 
But  would  you?" 

A  dreadful  meaning  came  straight  from 
her  eyes  to  mine. 

"No,  I'm  afraid  I  would  not.  It  would  be 
too  terrible!" 

She  threw  off  a  light  laugh,  and  rose  and 
walked  to  the  book-case  beside  the  chimney. 
Here  she  took  down  an  old,  tattered,  red- 
covered  volume  and  rapidly  turned  the  pages 
till  she  found  her  place.  Then  she  came  back 
to  her  seat  beside  me,  and,  pointing  to  the 
lines,  read  aloud: 

* '  '  I !  '  exclaimed  the  Prince.  '  Blanchette,  my 
love!  I  be  so  barbarous  as  to  kill  you!  Ah!  you 
would  doubtless  try  my  heart;  but  rest  assured  it 
is  incapable  of  forgetting  the  love  and  gratitude  it 
owes  to  you.' 

"  '  No,  son  of  a  king,'  continued  she,  '  I  do  not 
suspect  thee  of  ingratitude.  I  know  thy  worth. 
It  is  neither  thou  nor  I  who  in  this  affair  can  con- 
trol our  destiny.  Do  as  I  bid  thee.  We  shall  both 
of  us  begin  to  be  happy,  and,  on  the  faith  of  a  cat 
of  reputation  and  honor,  thou  wilt  acknowledge 
that  I  am  truly  thy  friend.'  " 

129 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"But  it  ended  happily,  like  all  fairy  tales. 
So  will  yours,  I'm  sure,"  I  remarked. 

She  let  the  book  drop  wearily.  "It  must 
end  some  way — why  not  that?" 

I  clasped  her  hand.  "You  must  not  think 
of  it,  Miss  Fielding!  It  appals  me." 

"Well,  I  won't  speak  of  it  again.  But  I 
should  be  glad  to  have  a  friend  who  would 
help  me,  if  worst  came  to  worst." 

"You  forget  that,  in  spite  of  what  I  know, 
I  am  still  on  the  island,  after  all;  I  can't  yet 
judge  of  such  a  necessity." 

"Well,  Leah  and  I  will  fight  it  out." 

"You  said,  once,  that  I  could  trust  Leah 
in  everything.  Do  you  still  mean  that?" 

"Absolutely.  In  fact,  you  can  trust  her 
when  you're  uncertain  of  me.  Do  you  un- 
derstand? I  can't  make  it  too  emphatic." 

"I  understand,"  I  said. 

It  was  almost  time  to  go  now,  and  so, 
while  I  went  up-stairs  to  see  that  my  things 
were  ready,  Miss  Fielding  and  Leah  got  Hia- 
watha, fixed  a  collar  and  chain  on  him,  and 
put  him  into  the  carriage,  highly  excited  at 
130 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

the  prospect  of  traveling.    Leah  shook  my 
hand  and  looked  into  my  eyes  with  gratitude. 

Uncle  Jerdon  drove  up  to  the  front  door, 
and  I  got  in  beside  him  and  captured  the 
frisky  puppy,  who  proceeded  to  bite  my  hand 
playfully.  It  had  been  arranged  that  I  was 
to  send  some  one  down  to  repair  the  automo- 
bile, and  I  permitted  myself  to  hope  that  I 
might  find  in  that  a  sufficient  excuse  to  come 
back  myself.  So  it  was  not  altogether  with 
a  feeling  of  permanent  parting  that  I  finally 
gave  my  hand  to  Miss  Fielding. 

4  *  Well,  good-by,  White  Cat,"  I  said,  as 
Uncle  Jerdon  took  up  the  reins. 

"Good-by,  Prince !"  she  answered,  smiling. 

We  drove  off,  and,  as  we  turned  into  the 
long  lane  which  led  to  the  highroad,  I  saw  the 
two  women  standing  in  the  sunshine,  at  the 
front  door,  and  waved  a  last  farewell  to  them. 
With  all  the  sinister  suggestions  that  had 
been  crowding  upon  me,  I  could  not  bear  to 
leave  them  alone.  "White  Cat  White  Cat," 
was  still  echoing  in  my  ears. 

Uncle  Jerdon  winked  at  me. 
131 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"Lord,  she's  as  crazy  as  a  loon,  ain't  she?" 

"Do  you  think  so?"  I  asked  coldly. 

"Plum'  crazy.  She  ought  to  be  into  an 
asylum,  and  would  be,  if  she  had  any  folks  to 
send  her  there.  But  she's  a  dandy  when 
she's  all  right,  you  can  bet  on  that!" 

I  did  not  encourage  him  to  go  on,  and  for 
the  rest  of  the  way  to  the  station  we  talked 
of  his  rheumatism  and  the  extravagance  of 
his  nephew's  second  wife. 


132 


PART  SECOND 


My  machine  had  been  repaired  for  a  week, 
but  I  had  not  had  it  brought  up  to  town, 
when  I  received  a  note  from  Leah.  It  was 
dated  " Tuesday." 

"Come  down  immediately,"  she  wrote,  "if 
you  can  think  of  a  plausible  pretext,  but  don't 
say  that  I  sent  for  you.  Miss  Fielding  will 
not  ask  you,  herself,  but  we  need  you  very 
much.  I  trust  to  you." 

I  took  an  early  afternoon  train  the  next 
day,  and,  finding  no  one  to  meet  me  at  the 
station,  engaged  a  carriage  to  take  me  over 
to  Miss  Fielding's  place.  My  driver  would, 
I  am  sure,  have  been  glad  to  gossip  with  me 
upon  the  lady's  affairs,  but  I  headed  off  all 
his  hints,  knowing  pretty  well  from  Uncle 
Jerdon's  insinuations  what  the  tenor  of  the 
neighborhood  talk  must  be. 

Midmeadows  was  about  four  miles  from 
135 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

the  station,  and  a  half-mile  back  from  the 
county  road.  The  house  was  approached  by 
two  long  lanes  overgrown  with  shrubbery 
and  hazels,  one  from  the  seaside  on  the 
east,  and  one  from  the  main  road  on  the 
north.  We  took  the  latter,  a  wild  and  tan- 
gled wagon-track,  filled  with  stones  and  hum- 
mocks, and  worn  into  deep  holes.  The 
boughs  of  trees  constantly  scraped  across  the 
top  of  the  buggy  and  often  hung  low  enough 
to  threaten  our  eyes.  Near  the  house,  the 
lane  took  a  turn  round  the  corner  of  an  ex- 
tensive, old-fashioned  garden  of  hollyhocks, 
rose-bushes,  poppies  and  violets,  then  swung 
up  to  the  green,  eight-paneled  front  door, 
with  its  transom  of  old  bull's-eye  panes. 
The  copse  came  in  close  to  the  garden,  partly 
inclosing  it  on  two  sides.  To  the  right  of 
the  house  vegetables  were  planted,  with 
meadows  beyond,  and  behind,  the  hill  rose 
almost  from  the  stable.  The  whole  place 
had  a  charming  natural  wildness,  and 
seemed,  as  indeed  it  was,  miles  away  from 
any  other  human  habitation;  but  it  was  not 
136 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

uncared-for;  its  natural  features  had  been 
amended  and  composed  with  the  care  of  a 
true  artist. 

The  house  itself  was  long  and  low,  cov- 
ered with  unstained  shingles.  A  great 
square  brick  chimney  rose  from  the  middle  of 
the  gambrel-roof.  The  lower  windows  were 
leaded  and  built  out  into  wide  bays,  but  they 
showed  above  the  little-paned  sashes  of  the 
original  building.  The  front  was  almost 
hidden  by  climbing  Cecil  Bruner  roses,  now 
odorously  in  bloom.  The  southern  side  was 
lined  with  a  row  of  geraniums  which  rose  in 
huge  bushes.  Here,  in  the  second  story,  was 
another  bay-window  of  curious  construction, 
somewhat  resembling  the  stern  of  an  old  gal- 
leon. It  was  Miss  Fielding's  sitting-room, 
which  I  had  not  yet  visited. 

The  place  seemed  deserted,  for  not  even 
the  dogs  were  visible.  I  got  out  and 
knocked,  while  my  driver  waited  curiously  to 
catch  what  was,  probably,  a  rare  glimpse  of 
the  mistress  of  the  house. 

Joy  herself,  wearing  a  white  duck  sailor 
137 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

suit,  with  a  red  handkerchief  knotted  about 
her  neck,  answered  my  knock.  She  held  her 
hand  to  her  eyes  to  shade  them  from  the  rays 
of  the  afternoon  sun,  so  that  I  could  not,  at 
first,  quite  make  out  her  expression.  The 
first  thing  she  showed,  after  her  surprise, 
was  a  most  cordial  satisfaction  at  seeing 
me.  She  did  not,  apparently,  expect  me,  but 
my  presence  delighted  her.  I  saw  next  that 
she  was  in  trouble.  The  very  intensity  of 
her  welcome  alarmed  me.  The  two  vertical 
lines  between  her  brows  were  deeply  cut  into 
her  forehead,  her  lips  were  quivering,  there 
were  dark  circles  under  her  eyes. 

She  drew  me  quickly  into  the  library,  and 
I  saw  terror  in  her  look.  Her  cheeks  were 
pale  and  wan.  Her  hand  trembled,  as  it  lay 
on  the  back  of  a  chair  where  she  leaned. 

"Oh,  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come!"  had 
been  her  first  speech,  murmured  in  the  hall, 
and  it  was  repeated  now  as  I  stood  before 
her.  "I  am  so  glad  you  have  come!  I  need 
you  so!" 

I  had  fancied  before  that  her  face  was  one 
138 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

capable  of  expressing  tragedy — not  every 
woman 's  is.  Tragedy  shadowed  her  face  now, 
giving  her  a  newer,  more  dramatic  beauty  so 
moving  that,  despite  my  alarm,  I  could  not 
help  wondering  at  it. 

"You  are  not  well,"  I  exclaimed. 

"Oh,  well  enough — "  she  replied. 

"Something  is  the  matter — what  is  it?" 

"Sit  down  and  I'll  try  to  tell  you."  She 
dropped  into  a  chair,  with  her  elbow  on  the 
table,  letting  her  cheek  fall  into  the  hollow 
of  her  palm.  Her  eyes  closed  for  a  moment; 
the  soft,  long  lashes  shading  her  pale  cheek. 
Then  she  shook  herself  and  sat  erect.  "I'm 
so  sleepy!"  she  moaned.  "I  haven't  slept 
since  night  before  last." 

I  sprang  up  from  the  window-seat. 
"Won't  you  lie  down  here  and  rest?  Do!" 
I  pleaded. 

"Oh,  I  don't  dare!  I  don't  dare!"  she 
cried. 

"Tell  me  what  is  troubling  you,  so  that  I 
may  try  to  help  you!" 

She  looked  up  and  said,  "Leah  has  gone!" 
139 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

and  she  put  out  a  hand  that  trembled  with  a 
despairing  gesture. 

"Gone!"  I  repeated.    " Where?" 

"I  don't  know  where.  I  don't  know  when 
she  went.  I  don't  know  even  why." 

"Do  you  fear  she  has  met  with  an  accident, 
then?" 

"Oh,  no,  not  that.  Worse  than  that!" 
She  spoke  helplessly. 

"Worse?"  I  could  not  understand. 

"I  mean  I  think  I  must  have  driven  her 
away. ' ' 

I  still  could  not  guess.  "Why,  how  could 
you  have  done  that?  You  mean  that  she 
took  offense  at  something,  perhaps?" 

"Oh,  I  must  have  made  it  impossible  for 
her  to  stay." 

"But  what  did  you  do?  She  was  devoted 
to  you." 

She  sprang  up  and  wailed  out  with  bitter 
vehemence,  "Oh,  I  don't  know !  I  don't  know! 
If  I  only  knew,  I  could  do  something.  But 
what  can  I  do-,  now?  She's  gone.  She  was 
my  right  hand,  my  eyes,  my  ears,  my  memory 
140 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

— but  it's  not  that  I  It's  that  I  could  have 
been  cruel  enough  to  her  to  drive  her  away. 
Where  is  she?  Where  could  she  have  gone, 
do  you  think?  I've  waited  and  waited  to 
hear  from  her,  or  for  her  to  come  back — two 
whole  days!  I  didn't  go  to  bed  at  all  last 
night.  I  didn't  dare,  lest  she  should  come 
while  I  was  asleep.'* 

"You  expect  her  to  return,  then?" 

She  was  walking  up  and  down  the  room, 
her  hands  clasped  behind  her  back  tightly.  I 
could  see  that  she  was  on  the  verge  of  hys- 
teria. She  turned  to  me  again,  and  said : 

"Oh,  Leah  would  never  abandon  me, 
never!  She's  too  true  for  that.  But  she's 
afraid  to  come  back!" 

I  went  up  to  her  and  led  her  gently  to  the 
seat. 

"Now,"  I  said,  "tell  me  exactly  what  has 
happened." 

She  broke  out  again  wildly,  her  face  twitch- 
ing with  excitement.  "I  don't  know!  Don't 
you  see  I  don't  know?  That's  the  horror  of 
it!  I  may  have  killed  her,  for  all  I  know!" 
141 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"Ah!  Do  you  mean,"  I  began,  afraid  to 
say  it,  "that  youVe  forgotten?" 

She  stared  at  me.  "Forgotten?  "Well, 
you  may  call  it  that.  Yes,  I've  forgotten." 
She  put  her  face  into  the  pillow  and  began 
to  sob  convulsively.  After  this  nervous 
crisis  had  spent  itself  she  sat  up,  wiped  her 
eyes  and  said  with  a  faint,  spectral  smile: 

"Oh,  I'll  have  to  tell  you  everything,  now. 
I  can't  bear  it  any  longer.  It  was  bad 
enough  while  I  had  Leah  to  depend  upon,  but 
now  I  must  have  somebody  to  confide  in,  or  I 
shall  go  mad — if  I  haven't  already  gone 
mad." 

I  looked  over  at  the  table  where  I  noticed 
a  coffee-pot  and  a  cup  on  a  salver.  "How 
much  coffee  have  you  drunk?"  I  asked. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  Cup  after  cup.  I've 
been  drinking  it  all  day  to  keep  me  awake." 

"That  accounts  for  your  nerves.  You 
must  rest.  If  you  sleep  a  little,  you'll  get 
your  strength  back." 

She  sprang  up  suddenly,  her  gripped  fists 
raised,  her  head  thrown  back  in  a  sudden  new 
142 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

access  of  alarm.  "Oh,  no,  no,  no!  You 
don't  understand!  I  daren't  sleep!  I'm 
afraid — afraid!  How  do  I  know  what  may 
happen,  now  when  I'm  so  worn  out!" 

I  had  done  considerable  thinking  while  I 
was  away,  and  I  had  done  some  reading  as 
well.  I  was  beginning  now  to  make  it  out, 
piece  by  piece,  and  put  it  together  in  an  as- 
tonishing whole.  It  was  too  late,  in  this 
crisis,  for  reserves,  too  late  for  me  to  keep  to 
my  promise  of  not  trying  to  know.  The  girl 
was  distraught  and  alone.  And,  indeed,  the 
door  to  the  cupboard  where  her  skeleton  had 
been  hidden  was  now  well  ajar. 

"You  are  afraid,  you  mean,  of  the  otfyer 
one?"  I  brought  it  out  deliberately. 

She   stared  at  me,  like  a   somnambulist. 

"Yes,"  she  whispered,  "of  the  *  other 
one.'  " 

Then  for  the  first  time,  and  quite  uncon- 
sciously, I  think,  she  used  my  name.  It 
seemed  so  natural  to  me  that  I  was  not  sui- 
prised. 

"Oh,  I'm  so  glad  you  know,  at  last,  Ches- 
143 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

ter.  I'm  so  glad  that  it  will  be  easier  to  tell 
you."  She  put  her  hand  on  my  arm  and 
looked  up  at  me  in  tenderest  confidence. 
4 'Now  you  know  why  I  called  myself  the 
6 White  Cat.'  " 

"Yes,  I  see.  Don't  be  alarmed.  I'll  help 
you.  You  must  calm  yourself  and  we'll  find 
out  a  way.  I  know  her,  you  know. ' ' 

"Yes,  I  know  you  do.  You  must  tell  me 
all  about  her,  sometime.  How  you  must 
have  hated  me!" 

1 1  Perhaps  I  can  manage  her,  but  no  matter 
about  her,  now.  We  must  think  it  all  out, 
and  decide  calmly  what  to  do.  I'm  not 
afraid.  Trust  me,  and  I'll  see  you  through. 
It  will  all  come  out  right,  I'm  sure." 

I  went  on  so,  purposely  iterating  such 
phrases  to  lull  her,  and  key  down  the  intense 
strain  which  wrought  upon  her.  Her  eyes 
kept  on  me,  and  I  saw  my  influence  work — 
my  suggestion,  I  might  say,  since  it  was  pur- 
posely hypnotic.  Her  hysteria  made  her 
abnormally  sensitive  to  the  treatment.  She 
relaxed  her  attitude  slightly,  sighed,  and 
144 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

dropped  back  among  the  silken  pillows  be- 
hind her. 

"Oh,  you're  so  good!"  she  breathed. 
"You  will  help  me,  I'm  sure.  You  have 
helped  me  already!  You're  so  strong — it's 
such  a  comfort  to  have  you  here!"  She 
reached  her  hand  out  shyly  and  put  it  in 
mine,  where  it  lay,  small  and  cold.  It  was  the 
first  time  she  had  done  so,  except  under  the 
direct  stress  of  an  earnestness  strong  enough 
to  rob  the  act  of  any  personal  suggestion. 
It  was  a  distinct  caress,  fearless  and  genuine. 

"Now,"  I  said,  "begin  at  the  beginning, 
and  tell  me  all  about  what  has  happened." 

She  took  it  up  again  with  a  new  courage. 
"As  I've  said,  I  don't  know  when  Leah  left. 
I  only  know  that  when  I  rang  for  her  yes- 
terday morning  she  didn't  come.  I  went  into 
her  room  and  she  wasn't  there.  She  wasn't 
down-stairs.  King  didn't  know  anything 
about  it." 

"Nor  Uncle  Jerdon?" 

"Uncle  Jerdon  has  been  away  for  three 
days,  visiting  his  nephew,  who's  ill.  You 
145 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

see,  she — the  other  one — was  here  for  two 
days  running.  It  hasn't  happened  so  for 
years.  So  whether  it  happened,  whatever 
did  happen,  on  Monday  or  Tuesday,  I  can't 
tell.  Leah  might  have  left  either  day." 

"How  do  you  know  that  'the  other  one' 
was  here  for  two  days?" 

"Only  because  Sunday  is  the  last  thing  I 
remember  before  yesterday  morning.  The 
doctor  was  down  then.  You  know  that 
there's  a  hiatus  when  she's  here — a  perfect 
blank  in  my  memory.  I  lose  time,  as  she 
does,  when  I'm  here." 

Her  mention  of  the  doctor  started  a  new 
train  of  thought,  but  I  put  that  by  for  the 
present,  to  tell  her  of  the  letter  I  had  re- 
ceived from  Leah,  which  made  it  probable 
that  she  had  left  on  Tuesday,  the  second  day 
of  "the  other  one."  The  situation  was  seri- 
ous enough,  I  was  sure,  for  me  to  disobey 
Leah's  injunction  to  secrecy. 

"Oh,"  said  Joy,  "that  relieves  my  mind 
a  little.  It  shows  that  Leah  had  a  plan,  and 
she  must  have  stayed  somewhere  near  here, 
146 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

expecting  yon,  though  how  she  happened  to 
miss  you,  I  don't  see.  It's  quite  right  for 
you  to  have  told  me,  for  I  had  already  tele- 
phoned to  you — to-day,  after  you  started.  I 
was  surprised  to  see  you  appear  so  soon,  for 
that  reason.  I  was  at  my  wits'  end  yester- 
day, hut  I  hated  to  drag  you  into  this.  But 
what  could  I  do?  Doctor  Copin  has  gone 
out  of  town  for  a  few  days. ' ' 

"I'm  glad  you  sent  for  me,"  I  said.  "I 
shan't  have  to  feel  that  I'm  intruding.  But 
now  the  question  is,  why  doesn't  Leah  come 
back?  Why  didn't  she  wait  for  me  at  the 
station!" 

"She  must  have  been  awfully  frightened, 
to  have  gone  away  like  this,"  Joy  said. 

"Perhaps  she  discharged  her — I  know  she 
complained  of  Leah  a  good  deal." 

"  Yes,  I  Ve  thought  of  that.  But  I  fear  it 's 
even  worse." 

"In  any  case,  there's  no  reason  why  she 
shouldn't  come  back,  now  that  'the  other  one' 
has  disappeared,"  I  said. 

"How  can  Leah  tell?"  Joy  exclaimed. 
147 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"How  will  she  know  whether  it  is  I  or  'the 
other  one'?  We're  really  the  same  person, 
outwardly.  There's  no  difference  that  she 
could  recognize  unless  she  talked  to  me. 
That's  what  has  terrified  me." 

Then,  for  the  first  time,  I  saw  the  dilemma. 
How,  indeed,  could  Leah  know?  The  same 
woman,  the  same  clothes — but  yet,  how  dif- 
ferent! "Have  you  no  sign?"  I  asked. 
"Haven't  you  ever  arranged  it  with  Leah  so 
that  she  can  tell?" 

"Oh,  not  for  a  case  like  this.  It  has  never 
been  necessary.  You  see,  the  change  always 
comes  at  night,  at  least  always  during  sleep, 
so  that  when  I  wake  up  she  can  tell  right  off, 
by  asking  me  what  I'll  have  for  breakfast. 
We've  arranged  it  so  that  I  shall  always  give 
a  fanciful  reply,  and  let  her  give  an  obvious 
commonplace  one.  But  now,  Leah  daren't 
come  in,  for  she  knows  that  if  I  should  hap- 
pen to  be  'the  other  one,'  there'll  be  the  same 
terrible  something  that  happened  before — a 
quarrel,  or  worse." 

"Still,  there  are  some  apparent  diffe  > 
148 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

ences.  You  dress  differently,  it  seems  to  me. 
You  usually  wear  white.  Won't  Leah  know 
by  her  experience  of  you  both?" 

"Oh,  no;  you  can't  tell.  She's  so  whim- 
sical— sometimes  she'll  do  one  thing,  and 
sometimes  another,  like  a  child.  You  can't 
depend  on  her.  She's  tricky,  too." 

"I  could  tell,  I'm  sure — by  your  eyes. 
Hers  are  darker,  and  the  pupils  are  dilated, 
aren't  they,  usually?" 

"Yes — but  Leah  daren't  come  near  enough 
for  that,  don't  you  see?  Oh,  she  must  be  in 
agony,  poor  girl !  But  how  do  I  know?  She 
may  be  dead!" 

"You  forget  that  she  has  written  to  me 
since  leaving. ' ' 

"Oh,  yes — that  is  a  relief.  But  I  may 
have  hurt  her." 

"Oh,  Joy!  Don't  say  you  could  have — it 
was  not  you,  it  was  Edna." 

"Well,  how  can  I  tell  whether  or  not  I'm 
responsible  ? ' ' 

"I  don't  think  she  would  have  struck  her," 
I  said. 

149 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

"No?  She  did  once,  though.  She  stabbed 
Leah  with  a  carving-tool  on  the  wrist.  It  al- 
ways sickens  ine  to  see  that  scar.  Oh,  she 
has  a  temper!  Poor  Leah!" 

She  lay  back  on  the  cushions  again  and 
closed  her  eyes.  Her  hand  had  relaxed  in 
mine. 

I  looked  at  her,  so  wearied  and  pale,  and 
said  softly: 

"You  just  drop  off  to  sleep  for  a  little 
while,  and  I'll  think  it  over — " 

She  nerved  her  body,  and  pulled  herself  up. 

' '  Oh,  no ! "  she  exclaimed.  "  1 'm  dying  for 
sleep,  but  don't  you  see  I  can't?  If  I  should 
fall  asleep  who  would  it  be  that  would  awake  ? 
It  might  be  she." 

"By  Jove!"  I  cried,  "I  hadn't  thought  of 
that!" 

"I've  thought  of  nothing  else.  That's 
why  I've  stayed  up  and  kept  awake  while  I 
am  so  exhausted.  If  Leah  comes  back,  she 
must  find  me  here,  and  not  'the  other  one.'  1 
must  see  her  and  find  out  what  has  hap- 
pened— we  must  arrange  for  everything  and 
150 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

decide  what  plan  to  adopt  to  circumvent  her. 
Oh,  I  must  keep  awake ! ' '  Even  as  she  spoke 
her  head  dropped  again  heavily. 

"You  can't  tell,  then,  when  the  change  is 
likely  to  come  ? ' ' 

"Sometimes  I  have  a  feeling — a  premoni- 
tion— like  that  night,  don't  you  remember, 
when  I  was  so  blue!  I  knew  that  I  was  go- 
ing to  change.  But  usually  I  can't  tell. 
She  has  come  lately,  about  two  days  in  the 
seven,  but  irregularly.  It's  almost  always 
after  a  deep,  heavy  sleep.  You  remember 
how  late  she  used  to  lie  abed?  That's  what 
worries  me  now.  I'm  absolutely  exhausted, 
and  if  I  do  fall  asleep,  I'll  go  down  deep. 
So  deep,  I'm  afraid,  that  I'll  change.  Can 
you  think  what  a  horror  that  is  to  me?  I 
must  stay  up  till  Leah  comes.  You  must 
promise  to  keep  me  awake  by  every  means  in 
your  power.  But  even  then,  what  are  we 
going  to  do?  How  can  we  arrange  a  way 
for  Leah  to  get  along  with  her?" 

"That's  where  I  come  into  the  game,"  I 
said.    "I  think  I  can  solve  that  problem." 
151 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"How  did  you  get  on  with  her?"  Joy 
asked  timidly.  It  was  quite  as  if  she  were 
asking  about  another  woman,  and  feared  to 
commit  an  impertinence.  "Do  you  like 
her?"  she  added. 

"She's  not  to  be  compared  to  you,  of 
course.  But  there's  much  that's  likable 
about  her,  and  at  least,  we  get  on  beautifully. 
And  so  we  shall  this  time,  if  she'll  only  let 
me  stay.  That's  the  difficulty." 

"Oh,  she'll  let  you  stay,  she'll  be  only  too 
glad.  She  likes  you,  Leah  says."  Her 
brows  drew  together,  and  I  wondered  how 
much  she  knew. 

"Well,  then,  I'll  undertake  to  make  her 
keep  Leah." 

"Oh,  if  you  can  do  that — on  any  terms — 
we  can  stand  it,  both  of  us.  Leah  will  suffer 
anything,  I'm  sure,  rather  than  leave  me." 

' '  One  thing  more,  then — since  I  must  have 
all  the  information  if  I  am  to  do  anything— 
what  does  she  know?" 

"About  me?    Nothing,  I  think.    At  least 
she  has  never  been  told,  I  mean — we've  al- 
152 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

ways  kept  it  from  her.  She  thinks  she's  the 
only  one." 

"I  don't  see  how  that  can  be  possible!" 

"It  does  seem  strange;  but  then,  you  know 
she's  mentally  undeveloped.  In  some  ways 
she's  a  mere  child.  And  then,  too,  she  has 
never  known  it  to  be  any  different — why 
should  she  suspect  that  there  is  another  per- 
sonality— that  she  isn't  the  real  Joy  Field- 
ing? She's  conscious  that  she  loses  time, 
so  to  speak,  and  she  thinks  it  is  only  the  fault 
of  her  memory." 

I  thought  it  over  a  while.  Then  I  said: 
"She  wouldn't  say  much  about  it  to  me,  and 
so  I  didn't  quite  get  her  point  of  view.  It 
baffles  me.  She  must  know  that  she  does 
things  in  the  lapses,  even  if  she  doesn't  re- 
call them." 

"I  don't  know  that  she's  even  aware  of 
that.  She  may  think  that  she's  unconscious, 
during  these  lapses,  but  most  likely  it  is  just 
like  dreams.  Even  if  we  vaguely  remember 
them,  for  a  moment,  we  forget  them,  and 
they  don't  seem  to  have  been  real — or,  per- 
153 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

haps,  they're  like  delirium,  or  insane  inter- 
vals, of  which  she  has  no  memory.  Why,  a 
man  may  even  be  simply  drunk,  and  not  re- 
call what  he  has  done,  and  that  self  is,  really, 
a  different  personality." 
"But,"  I  pursued,  "do  you  forget,  too?" 
"Yes.  That  is,  almost  always.  At  times 
I  have  had  vague  formless  memories,  as  one 
has  of  dreams — that's  about  as  much  as  this 
second  life  ever  is  associated  with  my  nor- 
mal one — if  what  I  now  have  is  the  normal 
— how  do  I  know  even  that?  But  I  have 
known  about  the  duality  almost  from  the 
first,  and  of  course  Leah  keeps  me  informed 
of  everything  that  happens.  You  see,  some- 
times I'm  not  even  aware  that  there  ftos  been 
a  lapse — I  don't  realize  that  it  isn't  just  the 
next  day.  Leah  tells  her  as  little  as  possible 
about  me.  She 's  easily  managed  and  put  off, 
usually,  but  somehow  of  late  she  seems  to 
have  grown  stronger.  She  seems  to  be  de- 
veloping mentally.  It  frightens  me  a  little." 
"You  don't  think  that  anybody  has  told 
her,  possibly?"  I  suggested. 
154 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

" There's  nobody  to  tell  her.  Of  course 
Leah  never  would. ' ' 

' ' Uncle  Jerdon?" 

"Oh,  he  thinks  I'm  crazy,  and  he  never 
talks,  anyway,  I'm  sure.  He  doesn't  real- 
ize what's  happening,  for,  after  all,  we're 
not  obviously  different;  she  might  be  taken 
for  me  in  some  queer  mood,  I  mean,"  she 
added. 

"King?" 

"I  believe  he  thinks  that  I'm  possessed  of 
a  devil.  Which  I  think  I  am ! ' '  She  paused 
to  smile  faintly.  "Anyway,  he  minds  his 
own  business.  I  have  an  idea  that  he  has  a 
reason  for  wanting  to  keep  quiet." 

"Or,  lastly,  then,  the  doctor?"  I  put  it 
hesitatingly,  yet  I  wanted  to  know  what  she 
would  say.  Her  answer  was  prompt. 

"He  wouldn't  tell,  I'm  sure.  Why,  he 
wants  to  cure  me.  It  would  spoil  all  chance 
of  that,  I  think,  if  she  knew." 

I  wasn't  so  sure  of  the  doctor,  after  what 
Leah  had  said  to  me,  but  it  would  do  no  good, 
now,  to  mention  that.  She  had  trouble 
155 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

enough  at  present  not  to  worry  her  with  new 
doubts. 

"Then,  is  it  possible  that  she  might  have 
come  across  some  evidence  of  you,  in  your 
writings,  or  something  that  would  arouse  her 
curiosity?" 

"Oh,  I  think  she  hasn't  the  least  suspicion. 
As  I  said,  it  must  all  seem  natural  enough 
for  her  to  lose  time — she  has  always  done 
so.  Everything  is  accounted  for  to  her  by 
the  fact  that  she  forgets.  Of  course,  I  am 
careful  to  hide  everything  that  is  strictly  my 
own,  anything,  that  is,  that  she  would  not  un- 
derstand. Leah  keeps  all  my  private  letters 
under  lock  and  key.  I'm  very  careful,  for 
I've  been  on  my  guard  since  it  first  began." 

"How  long?' 'I  asked. 

"Ever  since  I  was  thirteen.  That's  when 
she  came  first." 

"It's  incredible!"  I  exclaimed.  "Of 
course,  I've  heard  of  such  multiple  personali- 
ties, of  the  celebrated  ones,  but  they've 
seemed  only  like  queer,  improbable  cases  out 
of  a  book — monstrosities.  Or  I've  regarded 
156 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

them  as  half-crazed  or  hysterical  or  somnam- 
bulistic. But  you,  Miss  Fielding!  You  seem 
so  beautifully  sane,  so  poised,  so  complete — 
it's  like  a  fairy  tale.  Oh,  you  are  the  *  White 
CatM  You  are  under  a  spell!" 

"It's  only  because  I'm  not  a  poor  girl  that 
I'm  not  a  mere  'case,'  I  assure  you.  You 
don't  know  what  a  life  I've  led,  how  every 
physician  I've  had  has  wanted  to  study  me, 
or  put  me  in  a  sanatorium  or  a  hospital  or 
an  asylum  or  worse.  Yes,  if  I  hadn't  the 
money,  I  should  probably  be  in  a  mad-house 
at  thi§  moment.  Do  you  realize  how  easy 
it  would  be  for  a  physician  to  put  me  there? 
From  the  ordinary  point  of  view,  I'm  virtu- 
ally insane  part  of  the  time.  I  have  been  in 
great  danger,  Chester.  But,  having  some 
money,  I  have  been  able  to  get  away  from 
people  and  seclude  myself  and  retain  my 
freedom — if  you  call  it  freedom  to  be  cheated 
out  of  part  of  your  natural  life !  I  have  had 
Leah,  and  she  was  enough.  She  under- 
stands, she 's  loyal,  and  she  is,  above  all,  wise 
and  good." 

157 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"But  the  doctor — what  about  him?" 

"Of  course  I  must  have  a  physician  at 
times,  and  Doctor  Copin  is  a  good  one,  and 
interested  in  my  case.  He  has  been  moet 
kind  to  me.  Of  course  I  am  interesting, 
though,  psychologically,  and  he's  probably 
written  a  monograph  about  me  for  some  med- 
ical society  already.  But  I  have  him  chiefly 
for  medical  troubles,  and  to  keep  general  run 
of  this  thing,  enough  to  advise  me. ' ' 

This  was  rather  different  from  what  Edna 
had  led  me  to  believe,  so  I  said: 

"He  hasn't  attempted  to  treat  you  for  this 
psychological  dissociation?" 

"No.  He  has  wanted  to.  In  fact,  he's  al- 
ways urging  me  to  allow  him  to  see  what  he 
can  do,  but  I  won't  let  him.  He  wants  to 
hypnotize  me — but  I  don't  quite  dare — 
would  you  ? ' ' 

"  No, "  I  said.  "  I  'd  advise  you  not  to.  If 
that's  to  be  done  you  ought  to  go  to  a  great 
specialist." 

I  thought  I  had  a  clue  now  that  would  bear 
158 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

following  up,  but  I  decided  to  think  it  over  a 
while  before  I  spoke  of  it. 

So  intently  had  we  talked,  that  we  had 
scarcely  noticed  the  darkness  which  had 
fallen  until  King's  gong  aroused  us.  Joy 
rose  wearily. 

1  '  Would  you  mind  lighting  the  candles  1" 
she  said. 

She  waited  till  all  the  sconces  were  burn- 
ing and  then,  as  I  went  to  the  window,  she 
said : 

"No,  leave  the  shades  up,  please!  I  want 
the  windows  left  so  that  Leah,  if  she  comes, 
may  look  in.  I  feel  somehow  that  she  is  near 
here,  that  she  will  come  this  evening,  if  she 
dares." 

"Why  haven't  you  been  out  where  she 
could  see  you,  then?  Have  you  thought  to 
call  her ?" 

She  looked  at  me  blankly.  "Why,  I 
haven't  thought  of  that,  have  I?  But  would 
she  dare  come?" 

"Try  it  now!"  I  exclaimed. 
159 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

"I  will!"  She  went  to  the  front  door  and 
threw  it  open  and  cried : 

"Leah! — Leah! — Leah!  Come  here!  It's 
all  right.  I  want  you,  dear!7' 

There  was  enough  in  the  scene — the  still- 
ness that  ensued,  the  gathering  mysterious 
twilight  that  shrouded  the  house,  the  tragic 
quaver  in  Joy's  voice — to  make  me  thrill  to 
its  dramatic  power.  She  stood  there  for  a 
few  minutes,  all  in  white,  waiting,  her  hands 
clasped  on  her  breast,  vividly  illuminated  by 
the  candles.  But  no  sound  came  out  of  the 
shadows  of  the  night. 

Joy  closed  the  door;  then,  with  quick  sec- 
ond thought,  she  returned  to  leave  it  ajar, 
and  came  back  into  the  library. 

We  had  moved  almost  to  the  dining-room, 
when,  on  a  sudden  whim,  she  paused,  turned 
and  looked  toward  the  window.  My  own 
eyes  followed  hers.  There  was  a  dark  face 
peering  in — so  dark  that  the  whites  of  the 
eyes  and  the  teeth  were  almost  all  that  was 
visible,  though  enough  to  show  who  it  was. 

"Leah!"  Joy  cried,  and  ran  again  to  the 
160 


THE   WHITE    CAT, 

door,  crying  out  hysterically.  She  called 
again,  but  no  answer  came. 

It  occurred  to  me  that  the  excited  accents 
of  Joy's  voice  might  well  be  misleading,  and 
for  the  first  time  I  thought  to  try  myself. 
Joy  had  returned,  to  throw  herself  down,  sob- 
bing, full  length  upon  the  window-seat,  her 
heart  breaking  with  the  suspense  and  disap- 
pointment. The  strain  was  too  much  for 
her,  after  her  hours  of  hope  and  fear.  I  did 
not  stop  to  comfort  her  then,  but  ran  to  the 
doorway  and  stood  in  the  lighted  hall  there 
in  plain  sight. 

"Leah!"  I  called.  "Come  here,  it's  I— 
Mr.  Castle.  I  want  you!" 

There  was  still  no  reply,  but,  feeling  sure 
that  Leah  must  be  near  at  hand,  I  started  off 
vaguely  in  the  dark.  I  had  gone  but  to  the 
turn  of  the  lane  when  I  heard  footsteps,  run- 
ning. Then  in  a  rush  Leah  was  upon  me, 
and  had  seized  my  hand. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Castle!  I'm  so  glad  you've 
come — but  I  was  afraid  to  go  in.  I  was 
afraid  I  might  make  it  worse  if  she  was  there. 
161 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

Who  is  it?    Tell  me  quick!    Is  it  my  own 
Miss  Joy,  or  the  other  ?" 

"It's  Joy,"  I  assured  her,  "and  she's  wait- 
ing for  you.  You  must  come  at  once." 

She  paused  a  moment,  evidently  wonder- 
ing if  I  knew  the  secret. 

"You're  sure?"  she  said.  "You  know 
that  there  are  two  ? ' ' 

"Yes — I  know  everything,  now,  and  this  is 
Joy — your  Joy!" 

She  bounded  forward,  and  I  with  her, 
stumbling  in  the  dark,  into  the  doorway,  to 
the  library.  There  for  a  moment  she 
stopped,  trembling  so  violently  that  her  teeth 
chattered  audibly.  Joy  was  still  lying 
stretched  out  at  full  length  upon  the  cushions 
of  the  window-seat.  At  the  first  glance  Leah 
did  not  see  her,  but  then  she  ran  forward, 
knelt,  and  threw  her  arms  about  her  mistress. 

But  the  next  instant,  starting  back  as  if  she 
had  embraced  a  corpse,  she  sprang  up  and 
faced  me,  her  eyes  opened  wide  in  horror. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Castle,  she's  asleep!  Miss  Joy's 
asleepl" 

162 


H 

For  a  moment  I  was  too  surprised  to  real- 
ize the  full  significance  of  Leah's  cry.  Then 
Joy's  own  words  came  back — the  wail  of  her 
harassed  soul — "If  I  should  fall  asleep,  who 
would  it  be  that  would  awake?"  There  she 
lay,  asleep  at  last.  Her  small  head  lay  upon 
her  arm,  and  her  oval  face  was  now  flushed, 
her  lips  half  parted,  showing  her  little  blue- 
white  teeth.  The  crisp  white  duck  blouse 
moved  gently  with  her  breathing — beneath 
her  skirt  two  tiny  red  shoes  lay  one  over  the 
other. 

As  she  herself  had  said,  she  was  so  utterly 
exhausted  that  she  would  "go  down  deep." 
Dared  we  awaken  her!  Certainly  not  Leah, 
who,  of  course,  had  seen  the  whole  awful  pos- 
sibility on  the  instant. 

I  had  to  decide.  What  was  to  be  done 
must  be  done  quickly.  If  Joy  were  allowed 
163 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

to  sleep  long  and  deeply  we  might  confidently 
expect  "the  other  one"  to  awaken.  The 
question  was,  could  we,  perhaps,  rouse  her 
before  that  incomprehensible  change  had 
taken  place  ?  It  seemed  to  he  the  only  thing 
to  do.  I  determined,  at  all  events,  to  take 
the  risk. 

Meanwhile,  Leah  had  fallen  into  a  chair, 
overcome  with  the  disappointment  of  the  sit- 
uation. She  was  in  a  distressing  state;  her 
skirt  was  torn  and  soiled,  her  shoes  dusty, 
her  waist  disheveled.  Her  black  hair  was 
awry;  she  was  hatless.  I  thought  at  first 
that  she,  too,  had  fallen  asleep  from  sheer 
fatigue. 

I  went  to  her  and  laid  a  hand  on  her  shoul- 
der to  rouse  her.  She  started  with  a  fright- 
ened jump. 

"Leah,"  I  said,  "I'm  going  to  awaken 
Miss  Fielding.  It's  the  only  thing  to  do,  I 
think.  We  may  be  able  to  get  her  again,  be- 
fore she  changes.  But  if  not,  we  must  be 
ready  with  some  plan  by  which  to  manage 
Edna.  We  must  hurry,  though.  First,  tell 
1G4 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

me  in  the  fewest  possible  words  what  has 
happened.     Joy,  of  course,  didn't  know." 

Leah  had  braced  herself  for  the  ordeal  and 
was  now  quick,  alert  and  concise.  "She  got 
angry  on  account  of  my  i trying  to  run  her,' 
she  said.  You  see  /the  other  one'  was  here 
for  two  days.  I've  always  been  able  to  man- 
age her  for  one  day,  but  the  second  day  she 
seemed  to  be  much  stronger,  and  it  was 
worse  than  it  has  ever  been  before.  She 
found  out  that  I  had  burned  some  of  her 
old  clothes — Miss  Joy  had  told  me  to — and 
so  she  discharged  me  and  told  me  to  leave 
the  place  immediately.  I  wouldn't  go,  and 
she  went  into  the  barn  and  got  a  horsewhip 
and  threatened  me  with  it.  I  was  afraid,  Mr. 
Castle!  She  was  in  a  fearful  temper.  I 
was  afraid  she'd  kill  me.  Then  I  went.  I 
stayed  all  night  in  the  Harbor.  I  wrote  to 
you  as  soon  as  I  got  there,  for  I  couldn't  get 
you  on  the  telephone.  Yesterday  I  hung 
about  the  place  all  day,  but  she  didn't  ap- 
pear, and  I  was  afraid  to  come  in.  I  posi- 
tively didn't  dare,  though  I  knew  it  probably 
165 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

was  Miss  Joy.  To-day  I  stayed  in  that  old 
cabin  down  by  the  road  all  day,  for  I  was 
pretty  sure  it  must  be  she  who  was  here.  I 
was  so  tired  I  fell  asleep  and  that's  how  I 
missed  you,  I  suppose.  I've  had  hardly  any- 
thing to  eat  since  yesterday — only  a  few  bis- 
cuits I  brought  with  me." 

I  had  been  thinking  out  a  plan  as  I  listened, 
and  as  soon  as  she  had  finished  I  gave  Leah 
her  orders. 

"Listen,  now.  If  it  is  'the  other  one'  who 
awakens,  I'll  tell  her  that  I  happened  to  meet 
you  in  the  Harbor,  and  induced  you  to  come 
back,  on  my  own  responsibility.  Do  you  see  ? 
I'll  manage  it;  you  needn't  be  afraid.  I'll 
take  care  of  you,  and  it  will  be  all  right. 
Of  course  if  it  is  Joy  who  wakes  up,  that  will 
be  better.  But  we  must  act  quickly.  Can 
you  tell  immediately  who  it  is  that  awakens, 
Joy  or  'the  other  one'?" 

"Oh,  we  can  tell  that  easily  enough,  by  the 
way  she  treats  me ! ' ' 

"Very  well,  then.  You  must  awaken  her 
now!" 

166 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

I  sat  down  where  I  could  watch,  and  Leah 
went  hesitatingly  up  to  her  mistress  again, 
and  shook  her  shoulder  gently. 

"Wake  up,  Miss  Joy!"  she  said  softly,  but 
firmly.  "Wake  up,  you're  catching  cold, 
honey." 

Joy  moaned,  turned  a  little,  then  drew 
herself  together  again  drowsily. 

"Wake  up,  Miss  Joy,  you  must  have  your 
dinner  now!" 

She  moved  again,  and  muttered,  "Oh,  I'm 
so  sleepy!  Let  me  go  to  sleep,  Leah, 
please!" 

Again  Leah  shook  her.  It  seemed  cruel  to 
have  to  bring  that  exhausted  body  back  to 
life.  "Wake  up,  Miss  Joy.  Mr.  Castle's 
here  to  see  you !  Wake  up ! " 

She  opened  her  eyes  now,  and  stared  va- 
cantly at  us.  Then  her  face  changed  glori- 
ously. She  flung  her  arms  round  Leah's 
neck. 

"Oh,  Leah!  Leah!  You've  come  back 
tome!" 

It  was  some  moments  before  either  of  the 
167 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

women  was  able  to  speak.  They  clung  to 
each  other,  sobbing. 

After  the  first  hurried  words  of  explana- 
tion were  over,  Joy  went  up  to  her  room  to 
wash  her  face  and  freshen  herself  for  what 
was  yet  to  be  done.  Leah  went  with  her,  al- 
most too  happy  to  think  of  her  own  sorry  ap- 
pearance. Both  came  down,  after  a  while, 
in  a  change  of  costume,  and  went  with  me 
into  the  dining-room  where  King  was  pa- 
tiently waiting  to  serve  the  meal  so  long  de- 
layed. Joy  showed  plainly  the  ravages 
which  two  days  of  suspense  and  agony  had 
accomplished,  but  she  was  braced  mentally 
by  my  presence  and  Leah's  return,  and  in  a 
condition  to  discuss  calmly  what  was  to  be 
done.  Leah  had  also  rallied  from  her  col- 
lapse, and  the  dinner  brought  her  strength 
and  courage. 

The  meal  was  over  before  we  had  settled 
how  Leah  could  be  kept  in  favor  with  "the 
other  one" — whom  we  agreed,  hereafter,  to 
call  Edna — and  we  were  still  uncertain  as  to 
our  actions  in  regard  to  many  other  compli- 
168 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

cations  which  might  arise.  It  depended 
principally  upon  the  extent  of  my  influence 
with  Edna.  To  hear  Joy  discuss  these 
phases  of  her  condition  in  that  other  state — 
her  fondness  for  me,  her  whims,  her  weak- 
nesses— gave  me  a  strange  sensation.  But 
what  struck  me  as  most  remarkable  in  her 
talk  was  the  sense  of  justice  she  always 
showed  in  regard  to  Edna.  One  might  have 
expected  Joy  to  resent  the  intrusion  of  this 
second  personality,  so  inimical  to  her  own 
interests,  but  she  never  failed  to  acknow- 
ledge Edna's  rights.  Indeed,  her  whole  atti- 
tude was  that  Edna  was  strictly  another 
person,  rather  than  some  part  of  herself 
broken  off  and  endowed  with  an  independent 
existence — which  was  my  theory  of  the  situ- 
ation. 

I  quite  lost  myself  in  the  subtleties  of  the 
case.  To  know  that  probably  on  the  mor- 
row I  should  be  face  to  face  with  this  same 
woman,  in  form  and  feature  precisely  the 
same,  and  yet  as  different  from  her,  really,  as 
the  West  is  from  the  East,  gave  me,  in  spite 
169 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

of  my  effort  to  concentrate  my  mind  upon 
the  affair,  a  sort  of  mental  instability  which 
was  disconcerting.  I  could  not  quite  believe 
that  she  would  or  could  change.  She  seemed 
too  real,  too  normal,  if  I  may  qualify  such 
adjectives.  And  besides  all  this,  I  had  be- 
gun to  think  of  her  in  another  way,  which 
made  the  prospect  of  any  such  change  seem 
unbearable. 

Meanwhile,  Joy  grew  steadily  sleepier. 
She  roused  herself  occasionally,  by  an  effort, 
but  would  droop  the  moment  she  had  stopped 
speaking.  Coffee  no  longer  stimulated  her. 
She  began  to  walk  up  and  down  the  room, 
leaning  on  Leah's  arm,  as  if  she  were  fight- 
ing off  the  effects  of  laudanum.  Her  suf- 
fering was  cruel.  We  had,  at  last,  to  resort 
to  strychnia. 

So,  for  another  hour  we  talked,  while  she 
became  more  haggard,  more  weak.  Up  and 
down,  up  and  down  the  room  they  went.  We 
talked  of  seeking  the  advice  of  some  special- 
ist, here  or  abroad,  of  the  possibility  of  a  di- 
rect appeal  to  Edna,  in  the  chance  of  some 
170 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

compromise  to  be  effected,  of  Leah's  actions 
should  she  be  peremptorily  discharged  again, 
of  the  prospect  of  her  being  able  to  stay  in 
the  vicinity,  to  return  as  soon  as  Joy's  own 
personality  had  reasserted  itself,  of  the 
proper  method  of  safeguarding  Joy's  prop- 
erty, of  the  possibility  of  Edna's  actually  de- 
parting from  Midmeadows — there  were  a 
hundred  sides  to  the  subject,  and  all  baffling. 
There  seemed  to  be  nothing  to  do  but  to 
await  further  developments  and  see  if  I  my- 
self could  not  succeed  in  managing  Edna.  I 
rather  wondered  at  the  fact  that  Joy  did  not 
once  mention  the  doctor  as  a  possible  coop- 
erator  with  us.  It  seemed  to  me  that  she  in- 
stinctively distrusted  him,  though  she  never 
permitted  herself  to  say  so.  It  was  no  doubt 
her  fairness,  rather  than  any  conviction  of 
his  ability,  that  prevented. 

Finally  she  stopped,  scarcely  able  to  hold 
herself  up,  as  frail  as  a  wilted  flower,  and 
said,  with  an  effort  at  a  smile : 

"I'm  afraid  it's  no  use,  Chester;  I'm  too 
far  gone  to  think.  I  can't  control  my  mind 
171 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

any  longer.  I  must  have  sleep.  You  and 
Leah  will  have  to  settle  it  together — I'll 
leave  it  all  to  you — I  '11  agree  to  whatever  you 
think  best.  I'm  no  more  use  than  a  baby  to- 
night. Let  me  be  your  little  sister  and  tell 
me  what  to  do.  I  'm  tired,  tired — tired. ' ' 

My  heart  ached  for  her.  Her  mouth  was 
trembling  like  a  child's  just  before  crying, 
her  eyelids  hung  heavy,  all  but  closed.  What 
she  must  suffer  at  the  thought  of  sinking  into 
temporary  oblivion  and  resigning  herself  to 
the  inevitable  possession  of  "the  other  one," 
I  could  easily  imagine.  I  implored  her  to  go 
to  bed. 

When  the  two  women  had  left,  I  pulled 
down  the  curtains,  seated  myself  in  the  arm- 
chair, lighted  my  pipe  and  began  to  think  it 
over. 

I  had  seen  Edna  but  twice,  but,  from  what 
had  happened,  I  was  able  to  form  a  fair  idea 
of  her  character.  She  was,  in  the  first 
place,  by  no  means  the  equal  of  Joy's  true 
self.  Mentally  she  was  less  developed;  in 
some  respects,  as  Joy  had  said,  a  mere  child. 
172 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

She  was  inclined  to  be  untidy,  full  of  animal 
spirits,  and  constructive,  in  a  mechanical 
way.  She  was  not  fond  of  animals;  not,  at 
least,  of  the  dogs,  and  the  same  strain  showed 
itself,  I  thought,  in  her  prejudice  against 
Leah,  as  a  colored  woman.  There  was  some- 
thing of  that  lack  of  charity,  also,  in  the  fun 
she  had  made  of  Uncle  Jerdon,  something  of 
which  Joy  herself  would  be  incapable.  Edna 
was  inclined  to  be  bromic;  Joy  was  indubi- 
tably a  sulphite.  Lastly,  there  was,  I  re- 
membered, that  hint  of — what  would  I  call  it? 
— indiscretion?  forwardness? — in  the  way 
she  had  "made  up"  to  me  that  last  evening  I 
spent  with  her. 

Here,  perhaps,  was  a  suggestion  as  to  how 
I  might  manage  her.  It  was  not  pleasant; 
the  less  so  because  I  must  necessarily  keep  it 
from  both  Joy  and  Leah.  From  Joy  for  ob- 
vious reasons — I  could  not  think  of  permit- 
ting her  to  suspect  that,  even  in  this  other 
phase,  she  was  in  the  least  lacking  in  deli- 
cacy— from  Leah  because  she  was,  in  her 
way,  finer  even  than  Joy.  It  would  cause 
173 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

her,  in  fact,  the  keener  suffering  to  know  that 
any  such  thing  was  going  on  in  the  house. 
And  yet  I  could  not  quite  bear  to  act,  even  in 
these  circumstances,  secretly.  The  matter 
had  been  left  to  my  judgment;  but  I  could 
not  yet  make  up  my  mind  what  was  right.  It 
was  a  choice  of  two  evils,  perhaps,  but  the 
thought  of  permitting  even  the  lesser  one  to 
obtain  troubled  me.  In  a  few  words,  Edna 
was  apparently  fond  of  me.  I  didn't  care  to 
put  it  any  more  strongly  than  that  at  present, 
nor  to  say  that  I  would  admit  this  basis  of 
friendship  as  a  condition  in  which  I  could 
manage  her.  But  the  thought  was  affording. 
While  I  was  turning  over  in  my  mind  this 
phase  of  the  problem  Leah  came  down. 

"She  fell  asleep  while  I  was  undressing 
her,"  she  said,  taking  a  chair  drearily.  "I 
have  never  seen  her  so  absolutely  exhausted. 
She'll  sleep  late  to-morrow;  and,"  she  added 
with  a  shudder, ' 1  she  '11  not  wake  up  herself. ' ' 

"Well,  then,  we'll  have  to  be  prepared  for 
Edna,"  I  replied. 

"I'm  so  afraid  of  to-morrow!"  said  Leah. 
174 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

"Not  for  myself,  you  know,  Mr.  Castle.  I'm 
willing  to  endure  anything.  But  if  she  in- 
sists upon  my  leaving  here  again,  what  shall 
I  do?  I  simply  can't  leave  Miss  Joy !  What 
would  she  ever  do  without  me!" 

"I  think  I  can  manage  it,"  I  said,  though, 
indeed,  I  was  far  from  being  confident.  And 
then,  to  draw  her  out  more,  I  added: 
4 'What  I'm  wondering  is,  if  we  hadn't  better 
send  for  Doctor  Copin." 

"Oh,  don't!"  she  pleaded.  "You  must 
take  hold  of  this  alone,  Mr.  Castle.  He's 
been  down  here  several  times  since  you  left, 
and  I'm  more  afraid  of  him  than  ever. 
More,  even,  than  I  am  of  her." 

"•Why,  what  has  happened?" 

"Oh,"  she  cried,  "that's  just  what  I  don't 
know.  She  sent  me  away  usually,  and  often 
they  were  alone  together  all  day.  Some- 
times they  went  off  on  long  walks,  too." 

"With  her — with  Edna,  I  mean,  or  with 
Joy?" 

"Oh,  with  Edna,  of  course — never  with 
Miss  Joy  herself. ' ' 

175 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

This  gave  me  more  to  think  about.  If  she 
had  acted  with  the  doctor  as  she  had  with 
me,  a  good  deal  depended  upon  the  kind  of 
man  Doctor  Copin  was. 

"You  saw  nothing,  then,  to  arouse  your 
suspicions  V9 1  asked. 

I  saw  immediately,  from  her  embarrass- 
ment, that  she  had ;  but  she  finally  said : 

"No,  nothing  to  amount  to  anything,  I 
think. "  It  was  easy  to  see  her  motive  in 
this  denial,  I  thought.  She  could  not  bring 
herself  to  say  anything  that  might  seem  like 
an  accusation  of  her  mistress,  even  her  mis- 
tress in  this  other  person.  She  went  on ; 

"There's  another  thing  that  worries  me. 
She's  been  telephoning  to  the  doctor  almost 
every  day.  She  never  did  that  before,  and  I 
can't  understand  it.  I  don't  think  of  any  rea- 
son she  can  have,  for  physically  she's  quite 
well." 

"You  mean  Edna  has?" 

"No!  Miss  Joy  herself.  Of  course  Edna 
does,  all  the  time." 

"How  long  since  Joy  has  been  doin^  so?" 
176 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

1  <  About  two  weeks — she  began,  I  think, 
soon  after  you  left." 

"And  the  doctor  has  been  coming 
oftener?" 

"Yes." 

"Does  the  doctor  come  usually  when  Joy 
is  here,  or  when  Edna  is?" 

"Almost  always  when  it's  Edna." 

"How  does  Doctor  Copin  know  when  she 
is  here?" 

< '  That 's  a  mystery.  I  've  wondered  myself 
about  it,  but  I  don't  know." 

"Leah,"  I  said,  after  thinking  a  while, 
"do  you  think  you  can  trust  me,  whatever 
you  should  happen  to  notice  that  seems,  let 
us  say,  a  bit  too  much  like  what  the  doctor 
might  be  imagined  as  doing?" 

"You  mean?"  She  drew  a  quick  breath. 
"Oh,  that?  Why  should  you  suggest  it? 
Don't  ask  me  to,  please!" 

"It  would  be  better  than  permitting  you 
to  be  driven  away,  wouldn't  it?"  I  insisted. 

She  did  not  answer. 

"I  don't  say  that  any  such  thing  will  be 
177 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

necessary,"  I  added,  "but  I  don't  want  you 
to  be  surprised  at  anything.  I  don't  want, 
in  any  way,  to  be  underhanded  with  you. 
It  seems  that  you  must,  in  any  case,  leave  it 
wholly  to  me.  That  is,  of  course,  provided 
there  is  no  one  else  you  can  call  on." 

"Oh,  there's  nobody  else!  Miss  Joy  has 
no  near  relatives,  and  any  one  we  might  send 
for  would  perhaps  be  only  too  glad  to  have 
her  shipped  off  to  an  asylum  so  that  they 
could  get  hold  of  her  property.  That's  what 
has  always  complicated  it.  That's  why  she 
lives  here  alone.  It  might  be,  too,  why  we 
should  watch  the  doctor  himself."  She 
stretched  out  her  hands  appealingly  to  me. 
"Oh,  Mr.  Castle,  you  must  have  heard  of 
such  cases — I'm  told  they're  common.  Can't 
we  drive  her  away  for  ever  ? ' ' 

"The  doctor  probably  knows  a  good  deal 
more  about  that  than  I,"  I  replied.  "I  think 
that's  probably  why  he's  so  much  interested. 
But,  if  you  don't  trust  him,  the  very  fact  that 
he  does  know  so  much  about  the  subject 
makes  him  the  more  dangerous.  I  must  have 
178 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

a  talk  with  him.  Do  you  know  when  he'll 
come  again?" 

"He  may  be  here  at  any  time.  There's 
no  telling.  I  don't  think  Miss  Joy  knows,  hut 
I  have  an  idea  that  he  may  have  arranged  it 
with  Edna.  You  can  find  that  out  for  your- 
self to-morrow,  can't  you?" 

"I  think  that  I  may  be  able  to  find  out  a 
good  deal,  if  you  '11  only  close  your  eyes. ' ' 

Again  that  quick,  indrawn  breath,  as  if  she 
were  struck  with  a  sudden  pain,  and  she  rose 
and  stood  before  me. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Castle,  I  can't  help  trusting  you! 
I  must  trust  you ! ' ' 

"Will  it  help  you,"  I  said,  looking  her 
straight  in  the  eyes,  "if  I  tell  you  that  I  like 
Joy  immensely — that,  in  fact,  I'm  very,  very 
fond  of  her?" 

She  took  both  of  my  hands  in  hers,  kneel- 
ing before  me.  "Oh,  Mr.  Castle !"  she  cried, 
"if  you  only  do!  If  I  could  believe  that,  it 
would  be  such  a  comfort  to  me !  I've  wanted 
to  believe  it  ever  since  you  first  came  down. 
She's  so  alone — she  has  no  one  in  the  world 
179 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

but  me!  She  needs  yon  so  much!  Oh,  you 
could  do  so  much  for  her!" 

"There's  nothing,  Leah,  that  I  wouldn't 
do  for  her,  believe  me.  Nothing!  Do  you 
know  what  that  means  ?  It  means  that  I  may 
have  to  do  what  she  herself  would  never  con- 
sent to  have  me  do." 

That  was  as  far  as  I  dared  to  go  with  the 
girl;  indeed,  it  was  almost  as  far  as  I  had 
gone  with  myself.  I  could  see  hints  of  what 
it  might  possibly  come  to ;  but  just  how  it 
would  work  out,  I  had  no  idea.  It  would  be 
time  enough  for  that,  when  it  was  time.  But, 
on  the  whole,  Leah  was  pacified  and  strength- 
ened by  my  confession.  As  she  was  nearly 
in  a  state  of  collapse,  by  this  time,  I  sent  her 
to  bed,  and  remained  to  smoke  in  the  library. 

The  question  was,  now,  whether  Edna 
wouldn't  wonder  why  I  had  come  down.  I 
had,  of  course,  the  excuse  of  my  motor-car  to 
account  for  that,  but  I  thought  it  likely  that 
she  wouldn't  be  exigent  in  the  matter  of  ex- 
cuses, and  would  be  quite  ready,  for  her  own 
reasons,  to  welcome  me  to  Midmeadows.  At 
180 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

any  rate,  I  decided  that  I  would  stay,  whether 
or  no.  Joy  most  certainly  wanted  me  here, 
now  that  the  White  Cat  was  out  of  the  bag, 
and  I  was  quite  prepared  to  strain  a  point, 
if  necessary,  to  induce  Edna  to  be  hos- 
pitable. 

It  was  now  ten  o'clock,  and,  excited  as  I 
was,  I  found  myself  in  no  mood  for  sleep. 
So,  hearing  King  grinding  coffee  in  the 
kitchen,  I  walked  out  there  to  make  his  ac- 
quaintance. As  I  came  in,  he  looked  up  and 
grinned  serenely. 

"Hello!  You  come  back?"  he  said  af- 
fably. 

"Yes,  I'm  back,  King,"  I  replied,  and 
stood  with  my  hands  in  my  pockets,  watch- 
ing. 

"I  thought  you  come!"  he  said,  nodding 
his  head  wisely. 

"Oh,  you  did,  did  you?"  I  inquired. 
"Why?" 

He  went  on  automatically  with  his  coffee- 
mill,  still  grinning  inanely.    "You  likee  Miss 
Fielding?"  he  asked  audaciously. 
181 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"Heap  much!"  I  said,  laughing.  He 
laughed  with  me. 

"Aren't  you  lonesome  here,  King?"  I 
asked  next.  "Not  many  Chinamen  around 
here,  are  there?" 

"Oh,  Chinamen  no  good!  All  time  make 
tlouble."  He  poured  the  ground  coffee  into 
a  canister  and  took  down  a  pot. 

"There's  a  Chinese  laundry  over  at  the 
Harbor.  Don't  you  go  over  there  some- 
times to  smoke  a  pipe  f ' ' 

"Aw!  No  good  smoke  pipe.  More  better 
stay  here." 

Now  this  was  contrary  to  the  habits  of 
Chinamen  as  I  had  known  them,  and  I 
scented  something  interesting. 

"You  no  play  fan-tan? "  I  asked. 

"Aw!  Fan-tan  no  good,"  King  replied 
contemptuously.  "All  time  lose  heap  money. 
No  good!" 

He  shook  his  head  again  as  he  shook  down 

his  fire,  poked  it,  and  went  to  the  sink  to 

wash  his  hands  and  wipe  them  on  the  roller 

towel.    I  watched  -his   deft,   precise   inove- 

182 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

merits ;  he  was  like  a  machine  in  the  accurate 
way  in  which  he  handled  everything. 

"What  tong  do  you  belong  to,  King?"  I 
asked  presently. 

He  gave  me  a  cunning  look. 

"What-a-matter  you?"  he  demanded. 
"What  for  you  want  to  know! " 

"Hip  Sing?"  I  persisted.  "See  Yup? 
SamYup?  What  tong?" 

"You  sabbee  China  tong?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  sure!  You  tell  me,  King.  I  keep 
him  quiet.  I  no  tell." 

"Say!"  he  exclaimed,  approaching  me, 
grinning,  "sometime  you  help  me  get  away?" 

"You  in  trouble,  eh?  What's  the  matter? 
Hatchet-men  after  you?" 

He  still  grinned  in  the  absurd  way  Celes- 
tials have,  when  the  subject  is  most  serious. 
"No  ca tehee  me!"  he  declared. 

"Oh,  I  see.  They're  trying  to  find  you, 
eh?  What's  the  matter?  You  steal  China 
girl?  You  take  tong  money?  You  kill  Sam 
Yup  man,  maybe?" 

He  kept  his  grin  and  his  secret.  "Tha's 
183 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

all  light,  no  catchee  me!"  was  all  I  could  get 
out  of  him.  But  I  thought  I  had  a  suspicion 
as  to  why  he  was  contented  to  stay  alone,  so 
far  from  any  of  his  race,  and  never  go  to 
town  or  even  smoke  opium  or  play  fan-tan  at 
the  Harbor. 


184 


in 

By  the  next  morning  my  mind  had  cleared 
somewhat,  and  I  rose  full  of  eagerness  and 
interest  for  what  was  to  come.  I  looked  for- 
ward to  it,  now,  as  to  a  play  where  I  myself 
was  to  go  upon  the  stage  and  act  a  part.  I 
got  down-stairs  early,  to  be  ready  upon  the 
scene. 

The  day  was  fine,  and  I  stepped  outside, 
first,  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  dogs,  who  scrambled 
over  me  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight,  crouched, 
leaped,  ran  off  and  returned,  exuberant 
with  life  and  affection.  King  was  out- 
side, watering  a  patch  of  flowers,  and  grinned 
a  welcome.  I  took  a  turn  down  the  lane, 
reveling  in  the  sweet-scented  morning  air 
laden  with  the  perfume  of  the  hundreds  of 
rose-bushes  in  front  of  the  house,  and  then 
back,  quite  tuned  up  for  any  emergency. 

Leah  had  not  yet  appeared,  so  I  went  into 
185 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

the  music-room  which  opened  from  the  hall, 
opposite  the  library.  Here  further  evidence 
of  Miss  Fielding's  taste  was  evident, 
though,  except  perhaps  for  my  own  chamber, 
it  was  the  most  formal  room  in  the  house, 
with  as  fine  a  collection  of  Chippendale, 
Sheraton  and  Heppelwhite  furniture  as  I 
have  ever  seen,  and  a  ceiling  plainly  a  replica 
of  Adam's.  The  room,  in  fact,  was  almost 
like  one  of  those  chambers  in  show  palaces 
whose  entrances  are  roped  off  with  crimson 
cords.  1  felt  that  I  oughtn't  to  be  surprised 
if,  on  approaching  the  harpsichord  in  the  cor- 
ner, I  found  upon  it  a  printed  card  with  the 
legend:  "Defense  de  toucher." 

While  I  was  looking  about,  I  heard  Leah's 
footsteps  hurrying  down  the  stairs.  I  turned 
and  waited  for  her,  and  my  glance  must  have 
spoken  as  plainly  as  any  words,  for  as  soon 
as  she  saw  me  she  said: 

"It's  'the  other  one,'  Mr.  Castle.  She's 
up,  now.  She's  telephoning  to  the  doctor." 

"How  is  she?"  I  asked. 

"She's  fresh  and  well  enough,  but  she's  in 
136 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

a  bad  temper.  I  had  an  unpleasant  scene 
with  her.  She  wanted  to  know  why  I  was 
here,  and  I  told  her  what  you  said — that  you 
had  met  me  and  asked  me  to  come  back  with 
you.  Then  she  quieted  down  a  little,  and 
asked  me  when  you  came  and  how  long  you 
were  going  to  stay.  She  seemed  to  be  glad 
that  you  were  here,  and  it  pacified  her,  but 
I'm  awfully  afraid  that  she'll  send  me  away 
again ! ' ' 

" Don't  lose  courage,"  I  said.  "If  she's 
glad  to  see  me,  that's  a  good  sign,  and  it  will 
make  it  easier  for  me.  But  we  mustn't  seem 
to  be  plotting  here  together.  It  won't  do  to 
arouse  her  suspicions,  whatever  we  do.  You 
leave  it  to  me,  and  cheer  up ! " 

With  that,  I  walked  into  the  library  and 
waited.  It  was  not  long  before  I  heard  Miss 
Fielding's  door  open  and  heard  her  whistling 
as  she  came  rollicking  down  the  stairs. 

These  noises,  so  thoroughly  dissociated 
from  my  idea  of  Joy  herself,  created  uncon- 
sciously a  mental  impression ;  an  expectation 
that,  without  thinking  of  the  absurdity  of  it? 
187 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

quite  unprepared  me  for  the  sight  of  her 
when  she  appeared.  I  don't  quite  know  what 
I  did  expect — something  a  bit  unfamiliar,  un- 
natural, I  suppose — but  what  I  saw  was,  of 
course,  only  the  Miss  Fielding  I  had  always 
seen,  pretty,  slender,  exquisite,  the  same 
brown-eyed,  dark-haired  creature  as  ever,  at 
first  glance  the  same  woman  whom  I  had  left 
the  night  before,  only  now  refreshed  and  full 
of  life.  It  gave  me  a  distinct  shock.  At  sec- 
ond glance,  it  is  true,  there  were  almost  unde- 
finable,  yet  perfectly  distinguishing  marks 
of  the  new  personality — of  Edna;  and  as  I 
noted  them — the  carelessness  of  her  hair,  her 
dilated  pupils,  the  rolled-up  sleeves  of  her 
shirt-waist,  the  odor  of  Santal,  and  above  all 
a  refreshing  youthfulness — I  adjusted  my- 
self quickly  to  the  situation. 

She  came  forward  with  a  swinging  stride 
and  her  hand  held  out  in  jovial  welcome, 
smiling.  Her  grip  was  like  a  man's,  as  she 
said,  "Isn't  it  dear  of  you  to  come  down  and 
see  me,  Chet!  I  was  afraid  that  you'd  got 
enough  of  me  before  aiid  wouldn't  ever  want 
188 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

to  come  back  again.    I've  missed  you  aw- 
fully.    Sure,  I  have! " 

She  kept  the  hand  I  gave  her,  and  swung 
it  playfully.  I  said  something  about  the  au- 
tomobile. 

"I  hope  you  can  stay  a  while,  now  youVe 
come,"  she  went  on.  " There  are  all  sorts 
of  things  we  can  do,  now  you're  well,  you 
know.  Is  your  rib  all  right,  now?  Can  I 
hug  you,  if  I  want  to  1 "  She  laughed  frankly 
at  me. 

"I  want  to  talk  to  you  about  Leah,"  I  said. 
"I  hope  you'll  forgive  my  taking  the  liberty 
of  bringing  her  back,  but  I  knew  that  you 
would  have  changed  your  mind,  and  would 
miss  her  terribly.  I  thought  that,  if  I 
brought  her  back  and  asked  you  to  keep  her, 
it  would  save  you  the  embarrassment  of  send- 
ing for  her,  you  know.  Of  course,  you  must 
have  her  here.  You  could  never  find  any 
one  who  would  fit  in  as  well,  who  knows  your 
ways;  and,  even  if  you  could,  Leah's  too  fine 
a  girl  to  let  go  that  way." 

Her  face  clouded  and  she  answered  pet- 
189 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

tishly.  "That  girl's  no  good,  Chet.  She's 
regularly  spying  on  me.  She  watches  me  all 
the  time,  and  I  won't  have  it.  She  interferes 
with  my  things,  too,  and  she  thinks  she's  too 
good  to  be  a  servant.  If  she'd  only  keep  her 
place  I  wouldn't  mind  so  much,  but  I  won't 
have  a  nigger  putting  on  airs  with  me.  I've 
got  to  get  rid  of  her!" 

"But  you  can't  get  along  without  some 
one,"  I  protested. 

"Oh,  yes,  lean!" 

"Why,  even  Uncle  Jerdon's  not  here, 
now. ' ' 

"Well,  there's  King." 

"King  isn't  exactly  what  you'd  call  a 
chaperon,  is  he?" 

She  laughed  and  began  to  galumph  up  the 
room  and  back.  "Oh,  I  don't  need  one, 
do  I?" 

"It  seems  to  me  you  do  if  I'm  to  stay 
here!" 

"  'Fraid-cat,  'f raid-cat!"  she  taunted, 
starting  off  again,  sidewise. 

I  had  to  laugh,  and  by  a  quick  inversion 
190 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

she  became  serious,  coming  back  to  me,  her 
chin  up,  her  hands  behind  her,  jiggling  up 
and  down  on  tip-toes. 

"Do  you  really  want  me  to  keep  Leah?" 
*he  asked. 

"I  really  do,"  I  answered  gravely. 

"Why?" 

"Because  I'm  fond  of  you,  and  I  think  you 
ought  to  have  her  help. ' ' 

"Oh!"  she  exclaimed.  "Are  you  really 
fond  of  me,  Chet?" 

"Of  course  I  am — when  you  behave." 

"I  might  try  her  again,"  she  said  thought- 
fully. 

"She  must  stay  here  as  long  as  I  do,  at 
least;  or  else  I  can't  remain." 

She  inserted  her  little  finger  into  a  button- 
hole of  my  coat  and  said,  without  looking  up, 
"Will  you  stay  as  long  as  I  keep  her,  then?" 
She  looked  up,  now,  to  smile  at  her  strategy. 

"I  won't  promise  that,"  I  replied,  "but  I 
shall  certainly  go  if  you  get  rid  of  her. ' ' 

"Then  I'll  keep  her.  But  it  will"  be  for 
you  to  see  that  she  behaves,  Mr.  Chet." 
191 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

With  that,  she  was  away  again,  debonairly 
frolicsome. 

I  felt  as  if  I  had  won  the  first  battle,  and 
could  afford  to  hope  that  I  might  manage  her. 
I  was,  however,  skating  on  pretty  thin  ice, 
and  it  would  take  considerable  skill  to  keep 
out  of  danger  if  I  pursued  these  tactics  much 
further.  I  had  to  encourage  her  enough  to 
propitiate  her  and  keep  her  friendly,  with- 
out letting  the  affair  get  away  from  my  con- 
trol. 

She  danced  into  the  library  again  to  sug- 
gest that  we  go  for  a  walk,  and  I  followed  her 
outdoors.  As  we  passed  the  yard  in  the  rear 
I  saw  the  dogs  lying  in  the  sun.  We  had  not 
got  within  twenty  feet  of  them  when  they  all 
rose,  laid  back  their  ears  and  began  to 
growl.  Old  Nokomis,  who  had  greeted  me  so 
affectionately,  only  a  half-hour  ago,  stood 
with  her  brush  down,  grumbling,  her  head 
tilted,  her  eyes  on  Miss  Fielding. 

She  turned  to  King,  who  was  filling  a  pail 
at  the  pump. 

"Say,  King,  you  tie  up  the  dogs  in  the  sta- 
192 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

ble,  hear?  I  won't  have  them  about,  bark- 
ing and  growling  at  me."  She  made  an  im- 
patient threatening  gesture  at  Nokomis,  who 
retreated,  still  watching  sharply,  till,  with  an 
angry  yelp,  she  turned,  and  ran  into  the  sta- 
ble. The  other  collies  followed  her.  It  was 
uncanny. 

"I'm  going  to  sell  those  dogs  pretty  soon," 
she  remarked  carelessly,  kicking  at  a  thistle. 
"I  don't  see  why  in  the  world  you  wanted 
that  puppy." 

"Because  you  offered  him  to  me,"  I  an- 
swered, to  see  what  she  would  say. 

"Take  them  all,  then,  if  you  like,"  she 
said.  "I  confess  I'm  afraid  of  them  some- 
times." 

We  went  along  a  lane  behind  the  stable  and 
beside  a  potato  patch,  and  then,  rising  rap- 
idly, through  a  gateway  to  a  scrubby  hillside, 
covered  with  huckleberry  bushes  and  sweet 
fern.  Miss  Fielding,  for  so  I  must  still  call 
her,  or  you  will  perhaps  forget  that  she  was 
to  all  intents  and  purposes  physically  the 
same  in  this  secondary  personality,  stuck  her 
193 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

hands  in  the  pockets  of  her  red  golf-jacket 
and  swung  up  the  path  between  the  boulders, 
with  a  frank  joyousness  and  comradeship 
that  seemed  as  natural  in  its  abandon  as  the 
windy  air  and  the  sunshine ;  and  yet,  mingled 
with  it,  was  a  sort  of  innocent  trickery — the 
petty  ruses  of  a  primitive  woman  cropping 
out  through  a  veneer  of  civilization. 

I  doubt  if  I  can  recall  in  precisely  their  or- 
der the  little  things  which  occurred  after  that 
to  make  me  notice  as  evidences  of  her  pur- 
suit of  me,  but,  as  significant  of  her  degree 
of  craft,  they  amused  me  mightily.  If  I 
mention  them,  however,  it  is  only  fair  to  me 
to  bear  in  mind  that  I  regarded  her  quite  as 
an  abnormal  phase  of  womanhood.  She  was 
not  merely  another  person  in  Miss  Fielding's 
guise,  she  was  only  the  part  of  a  person — a 
collection  of  functions  sufficiently  synthesized 
to  have  an  independent  consciousness  and 
volition,  but  by  no  means  a  perfect  whole. 
This  is,  I  believe,  the  modern  interpretation 
of  multiple  personality.  Certain  definite 
psychological  tracts  are  split  off  and  run 
194 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

themselves,  so  to  speak.  One  might  perhaps 
say  that  it  is  as  if  France,  Germany,  Austria 
and  Italy  should  float  off  the  map,  and  achieve 
a  lesser  Europe  of  their  own.  The  line  of 
cleavage  in  Miss  Fielding's  case  was  chiefly 
along  intellectual  and  moral  lines ;  Edna  was 
a  lesser  and,  mentally,  a  younger  Joy — less 
cultured,  less  conscientious.  It  was  quite  in 
this  way  that  I  studied  her. 

She  stopped  in  the  lane  before  we  got  to 
the  gate,  and,  unfastening  the  little  gold  chain 
with  a  sapphire  pendant  which  she  had  about 
her  neck,  held  it  out  to  me. 

1  i  Here,  would  you  mind  taking  this,  Chet? 
Keep  it  safe  for  me,  please!  I'm  afraid  I 
may  lose  it." 

I  reached  for  it,  but  before  I  could  take  it 
she  had  herself  tucked  it  into  my  vest  pocket 
and  patted  the  place  humorously. 

She  stopped  again,  afterward,  to  ask  me  to 
tie  her  shoe-lace.  It  was  patently  one  of  the 
many  attempts  she  was  always  making  to  es- 
tablish a  closer  physical  contact,  an  effort 
to  keep  the  relation  personal.  I  remember, 
195 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

also,  that  not  long  afterward,  having  climbed 
up  a  sandy  bank  with  my  help,  and  with 
compliments  upon  my  strength,  she  stopped 
at  the  top  to  take  off  that  same  shoe  and 
empty  it  of  sand,  disclosing  quite  unaffectedly 
a  delicate  little  foot  in  a  grass-green  silk 
stocking.  I  helped  her  also  over  several 
stone  walls,  as  she  appeared  to  expect  it, 
smiling  to  think  how  often  she  must  have 
scaled  them  unassisted.  We  passed  cows  of 
which  she  professed  to  be  much  afraid  and 
clung  tightly  to  me  for  protection.  It  all 
sounds  crude  enough,  but  it  was  prettily  done, 
and  I  was  more  amused  than  critical. 

We  reached  the  top  of  the  hill  and  threw 
ourselves  down  on  the  grass  to  rest.  To  the 
east,  the  land  fell  away,  mottled  with  boul- 
ders and  bushes,  with  a  bunch  of  trees  here 
and  there,  and  away  in  the  distance  was  the 
sea.  On  the  other  sides  the  middle  distance 
was  blocked  with  woods.  It  was  warm  and 
sweet  with  a  fresh  earthy  smell,  and  still  as 
a  church. 

She  lay  prone  and,  plucking  a  blade  of 
196 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

grass,  fell  to  playing  with  an  ant-hill  under 
her  nose.  I  watched  her,  lazy  and  peaceful, 
basking  in  the  June  sunshine. 

"Have  you  seen  Doctor  Copin  lately  I"  I 
asked. 

"No.  He  may  come  down  to-day,  though. 
I  hope  he  will. ' ' 

"Oh,  you  like  him,  then?"  I  said,  giving 
my  voice  the  inflections  of  mock  jealousy. 

"Not  as  well  as  I  do  you,"  she  said,  rolling 
a  little  nearer  me  to  tickle  my  ear  with  her 
straw. 

"What  makes  you  think  he'll  come?" 

"I  telephoned  to  him  this  morning,  and  he 
said  he  might.  He's  just  got  back  to  town 
and  wants  to  see  me.  He  runs  down  when  he 
likes." 

"On  business,  I  suppose?" 

"Yes,  about  my  memory.  He  makes  dia- 
gram things  and  tries  experiments  on  me. ' ' 

I  was  interested.  "Experiments?  What 
kind?" 

"Oh,  he  asks  me  if  I  remember  things. 
You  see,  he  tries  to  tell  with  his  diagram 
197 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

things  just  when  I  shall  forget  and  when  I'll 
remember,  and  he  comes  down  to  fix  them 
up.  I  don't  understand  it  much,  but  he  says 
that  he's  going  to  cure  me." 

"Oh,  he's  going  to  make  you  remember 
everything,  I  suppose." 

"I  hope  so." 

"Do  you  remember  what  happened  yes- 
terday?" I  asked. 

"Why,  I  sent  Leah  away,  didn't  I?" 

' '  No,  that  was  three  days  ago. ' ' 

"Was  it?"  she  returned,  heading  off  an 
infuriated  ant  with  her  straw.  She  seemed 
to  take  little  interest  in  the  subject. 

"What  did  you  want  me  to  take  back 
Leah  for,  anyway?"  she  asked. 

"I  think  she's  honest  and  devoted.     She's 
thoroughly  fine.    Do  you  realize  what  temp- 
tations a  girl  might  have  who  knew  that  you 
•forgot  things?" 

"I  suppose  she  would.  I  never  thought 
of  that."  As  she  spoke  she  crushed  the  ant 
with  a  twig. 

198 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"And  Leah's  mother  was  your  nurse,  too, 
wasn't  she?" 

"Yes,  but  Leah  presumes  on  that  and 
thinks  that  she  can  do  anything  she  wants. 
Doctor  Copin  doesn't  like  her,  either.  He's 
got  another  girl  he  wants  me  to  engage." 

I  couldn't  help  exclaiming,  "Oh,  I  hope 
you  won't!" 

"Well,  perhaps  I  won't,  if  you  don't  want 
me  to,  Chet.  I  was  going  to  ask  your  advice 
about  it.  It'll  make  the  doctor  furious,  but 
I  don't  mind.  Poor  Doctor  Copin !  I'm  sorry 
for  him,  though.  He 's  awfully  hard  up. ' ' 

"Why!  Is  he  so  poor?"  I  smelled  a 
mouse. 

"He's  all  the  time  complaining  to  me,  at 
any  rate." 

"I  should  think  you'd  be  afraid  to  keep 
much  money  in  the  house.  It 's  such  a  lonely 
place  for  burglars,  you  know. ' ' 

"Oh,  I  don't  keep  much  on  hand.    But  I 
always  have  a  little.    I  have  a  small  income. 
It  comes  down  every  month.    It's  rents  or 
199 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

stocks  or  something.  It's  safely  Invested 
and  I  don't  bother  about  it." 

It  struck  nae  that  she  took  all  this  rather 
easily,  but  I  soon  found  that  it  was  the  way 
she  took  everything.  It  had  always  been 
that  way  with  her,  and  she  saw  nothing 
strange  in  it.  Her  amnesia  accounted  for 
everything.  I  saw  how  easily  she  might  be 
led.  Impressionable,  and  with  a  hasty,  wil- 
ful temper,  one  who  knew  her  temperament 
could  soon  learn  to  control  her.  I  began 
to  see  how  Leah's  influence,  which  had  here- 
tofore been  potent,  might,  perhaps,  be  under- 
mined by  the  doctor.  Here  was  the  next 
thing  to  be  investigated.  But  I  would  have 
to  wait  till  I  had  had  a  talk  with  him. 

She  plucked  a  dandelion  and  put  it  into  my 
buttonhole,  looking  up  at  me  coquettishly  as 
she  did  so. 

"Chet,  d'you  know,  I  like  you!"  she  re- 
marked. 

"Oh,  I'm  not  a  bit  offended  at  that,"  said 
I. 

"I  wish  I  could  make  you  like  me  a  little." 
200 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"You  are  looking  for  a  sinecure,  aren't 
you!" 

She  returned  to  her  ants  and  poked  at 
them  meditatively. 

"I  don't  know  why  I  tell  you  such  things," 
she  went  on.  "I've  never  done  so  before. 
But  you  understand — don't  you?" 

Oh,  yes.  I  understood.  I  had  heard  that 
sort  of  thing  often  enough  before. 

"I  like  you  because  you  treat  me  just  as. 
you'd  treat  a  man.  You're  not  always  re- 
membering that  I'm  a  woman.  The  doc- 
tor— "  She  broke  off.  I  understood  this, 
too,  but  it  amazed  me  to  find  that  she,  so  far 
away  from  the  world,  could  have  so  easily 
found  the  woman's  way. 

"You've  got  a  perfectly  stunning  profile," 
was  her  next  play. 

I  showed  her  how,  by  pressing  in  the  tip 
of  my  nose,  it  could  be  made  decidedly  He- 
braic in  contour.  She  pulled  my  hand  away 
with  a  pretty  protest  at  the  outrage  to  my 
looks. 

Next,  she  complained  that  her  hair  was 
201 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"  horrid, J>  and  that  after  it  was  shampooed 
she  could  never  do  anything  with  it;  she 
calmly  took  it  down  and  combed  it,  a  fine 
silken  cascade  of  brown.  It  was  quite  beau- 
tiful enough  to  warrant  the  exhibition,  which 
she  ended  by  plaiting  it  into  two  magnificent 
braids  falling  below  her  waist.  Finally,  she 
got  up  and  gave  me  her  coat  to  hold  for  her 
while  she  put  it  on,  a  process  which  she  de- 
layed unnecessarily,  snuggling  slowly  into 
the  sleeves  and  looking  coyly  up  at  me  over 
her  shoulder.  Then  she  seized  my  hand,  and, 
before  I  knew  it,  had  started  to  run  me  down 
the  hill.  She  stumbled  and  fell — on  purpose, 
I'm  confident — and  I  picked  her  up.  How 
such  contacts  and  familiarities  affected  me, 
considering  my  growing  fondness  for  Miss 
Fielding,  I  leave  you  to  imagine. 

We  walked  down  the  path  as  gleefully  as 
children  playing  truant,  and,  arrived  at  the 
stable,  she  proposed  that  we  go  in  to  ex- 
amine my  machine,  which  she  was  anxious 
to  try.  The  dogs  had  been  shut  up  in  the 
harness-room,  and  as  soon  as  we  approached, 
202 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

they   set  up   a  discordant  barking.     Edna 
scowled  and  went  to  the  door  to  look  in. 

i  l  Stop  that  noise  V  she  commanded  irri- 
tably. A  new  chorus  assailed  her. 

She  had  openecj,  the  door  only  a  crack,  but, 
as  she  spoke,  Nokomis  wriggled  through, 
forcing  it  open,  and,  crouching  in  front  of 
her,  ears  laid  back,  growled  angrily.  Quick 
as  a  flash  Edna  took  up  a  short  whip  that 
stood  in  the  corner  and  lashed  at  the  bitch. 
Nokomis  was  upon  her  in  an  instant,  and, 
before  I  could  prevent,  had  seized  her  ankle 
and  nipped  it  severely.  Edna  screamed  and 
struck  again,  this  time  with  the  butt  of  the 
whip,  hitting  Nokomis  squarely  on  the  fore- 
head. 

Yelping,  Nokomis  released  her  hold  and 
with  her  tail  between  her  legs  dashed  out  of 
the  stable  door  and  disappeared. 

Meanwhile,  I  had  closed  the  door  of  the 
harness-room  and  had  run  to  Edna.  Her 
face  was  white,  with  sudden  rage  rather  than 
pain.  Nokomis  had  given  her  only  a  nip — 
the  skin  was  not  cut. 

203 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"I'll  have  them  all  shot  to-morrow,  if  I 
have  to  do  it  myself !"  she  cried. 

I  did  my  best  to  calm  her,  and  in  a  few 
moments  she  had  recovered  her  temper 
enough  to  laugh  at  the  episode,  though  her 
spite  against  Nokomis  remained.  She  for- 
got it  in  my  explanation  of  the  motor,  which 
she  examined  with  great  intelligence. 

Luncheon  was  ready  when  we  reached  the 
house  and  we  went  into  the  dining-room. 
Here  it  was  dim  and  cool  and  we  fell 
naturally  into  a  more  placid  humor.  Edna 
seemed  less  the  impetuous,  irresponsible  child 
she  had  been  that  forenoon,  and  I  got  my 
first  hint  of  what  was  characteristic  of  her 
in  this  condition — that,  as  the  day  wore  on, 
she  seemed  to  grow  steadily  older  and  more 
developed  mentally. 

Over  her  shoulder  the  tapestry  paper 
showed  a  picture  of  the  combat  between 
James  Fitz- James  and  Roderick  Dhu;  be- 
hind her  the  door  opened  and  shut  from  time 
to  time  admitting  King  with  his  dainty 
dishes.  He  came  and  went  like  a  ghost,  all 
204 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

in  white,  while  Leah,  in  a  dark  gown  to-day, 
hovered  like  a  shadow  in  the  kitchen. 

Edna  had  an  amusing  and  not  unpleasant 
sort  of  gaminerie  at  table.  She  was  fond  of 
selecting  the  daintiest,  littlest  piece  of  celery 
from  the  dish  and  tossing  it  over  to  my  plate. 
She  did  not  hesitate  to  use  her  fingers  in 
cunning,  unconventional  ways,  not  as  if  she 
knew  no  better,  but  as  if  she  knew  herself 
to  be  pretty  enough,  and  charming  enough, 
to  invest  the  solecism  with  a  personal  in- 
dulgent humor.  So  she  dipped  her  bread  in 
the  gravy  audaciously,  so  she  crushed  her 
strawberries  with  her  fork  to  a  red  welter 
of  pulp,  and  added  cream  with  a  flourish. 
She  carried  it  off  perfectly;  it  was  quite  a 
distracting  sight. 

At  two  o'clock  we  got  out  my  machine  and 
set  out  for  the  station  to  meet  Doctor  Copin, 
she  guiding  the  car  according  to  my  instruc- 
tions. She  was  an  apt  pupil,  and  though  the 
first  stretch  of  rough  lane  required  consider- 
able skill  in  handling  the  motor,  we  got  out 
to  the  highroad  without  accident,  and  put 
205 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

on  top  speed.  The  excitement  of  it  kindled 
her  spirits  and  a  dangerous  light  shone  in  her 
eyes.  She  was  bareheaded  and  the  wind 
brought  a  fine  glow  to  her  cheeks. 

"Isn't  it  great!"  she  exclaimed.  "I'm 
going  to  get  a  car  the  first  thing  I  do." 

Her  touch  was  clever  and  firm  on  the  wheel, 
and  she  passed  from  one  speed  to  another 
and  handled  the  spark  like  an  expert,  al- 
ready. There  was  no  time  for  much  co- 
quetry, now,  but  I  got  a  glance  now  and  then 
on  the  straight  level  runs.  She  swung  up  to 
the  station  with  style,  and  my  hand,  though 
ready  to  help  her,  was  not  needed.  I  con- 
gratulated her  upon  her  skill  and  she  was 
pleased  as  a  child. 

"Oh,  I'm  going  to  show  the  doctor!"  she 
cried.  "You  wait  till  he  gets  in  and  I'll  give 
him  a  run  for  his  money ! ' ' 

The  train  appeared  in  a  few  minutes,  and 
Doctor  Copin,  with  his  professional  bag,  got 
out  from  the  parlor-car.  He  seemed  to  be 
much  surprised  at  seeing  me.  I  thought  that 
I  detected  something  like  annoyance,  too,  in 
206 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

his  expression.  I  wondered  if  she  had  not 
informed  him  of  my  being  at  Midmeadows 
when  she  had  telephoned  in  the  morning.  He 
greeted  me  cordially  enough,  however,  in- 
quired as  to  my  condition,  made  a  dull  joke 
about  my  ribs,  and  got  into  the  back  seat  of 
the  car.  I  kept  my  place  in  front  beside 
Edna,  coaching  her  as  we  went  along. 

I  talked  commonplaces  to  the  doctor,  who 
replied  laconically,  and  Edna,  being  absorbed 
with  her  work,  kept  quiet,  her  lips  closed 
tightly,  her  eyes  on  the  road  ahead,  waiting 
for  her  chance  to  make  speed.  After  we 
had  got  a  little  outside  the  village  there  was 
a  sharp  up-grade,  and  I  saw  her  hand  fly  to 
the  speed  lever. 

"Be  careful  how  you  throw  in  that  clutch," 
I  warned  her.  "Give  it  to  her  easy,  now!" 

Her  thought  was  all  for  impressing  the 
doctor  with  her  ability  as  a  chauffeuse,  how- 
ever, and  she  was  too  impatient.  She  re- 
leased the  clutch  and  threw  her  lever  back  to 
second  speed.  By  the  time  she  dropped  her 
clutch  back  in  again,  however,  the  car  had 
207 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

lost  momentum,  stopped  and  begun  to  roll 
down-hill,  the  engine  still  going  furiously. 
The  gears  meshed,  but  something  had  to  give 
under  the  strain,  and  with  a  snap  the  chain 
parted.  The  freed  motor  shook  the  car  with 
its  velocity.  I  grabbed  the  throttle  from  her, 
stopped  the  engine,  set  the  brake,  and  the  car 
came  to  a  standstill. 

"Oh!"  she  wailed,  "I've  broken  some- 
thing, haven't  I?" 

"I'm  afraid  you  have,"  I  answered,  laugh- 
ing. "But  I'll  see  what  can  be  done." 

I  crawled  underneath  the  car,  taking  the 
attitude  that  has  now  become  classic,  and  saw 
that  it  would  be  a  case  of  fastening  in  a  new 
link.  I  backed  out,  looked  in  my  tool-box 
and  found  that  there  were  no  extra  links 
there. 

"I  can't  mend  the  thing  here,"  I  explained. 
"You  and  the  doctor  will  have  to  get  out  and 
walk  and  leave  me  here.  You'd  better  send 
some  one  back  with  a  horse  to  tow  me  home. ' ' 

v 

She  almost  cried  with  shame  and  regret, 
but  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  do  as  I 

208 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

had  suggested.  I  noticed  a  faint  smile  on  the 
doctor's  thin  face.  He  was  undoubtedly  glad 
of  the  dilemma,  as  it  would  temporarily  rid 
him  of  my  company. 

"It's  too  bad  I  can't  sew  it  up  for  you," 
he  said  dryly.  "I'm  afraid  it  will  require 
a  capital  operation,  Castle.  You'd  better 
have  a  consultation  with  Uncle  Jerdon.  But 
if  you  need  any  anesthetic  to  keep  it  out  of 
pain  while  you're  waiting,  I'll  lend  you  my 
bag." 

"Oh,  my  machine  is  used  to  it,  you  know," 
I  replied.  "If  you'll  only  send  back  the 
coroner  it'll  be  all  right." 

"Well,  we'll  hope  for  a  change  soon,"  he 
said.  I  verily  believe  the  man  meant  it  for 
a  pun,  for  he  closed  one  eye  as  he  got  it  off. 
Edna  giggled. 

So  they  set  out  and  left  me.  I  took  a  seat, 
lighted  a  cigar,  and  waited  as  patiently  as  I 
could,  not  at  all  pleased  at  the  thought  of  his 
having  a  free  hour  or  two  with  her.  At  last 
Uncle  Jerdon  appeared  on  the  scene,  driving 
a  span  of  horses. 

209 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"Hello,"  he  greeted  me.  ''The  same  old, 
sweet  song,  eh?  Well,  we  all  have  to  come  to 
it,  sooner  or  later.  You  ought  to  lead  a  hoss 
behind  when  you  go.  I'd  as  soon  trust  to  an 
airship." 

He  harnessed  his  team  to  the  car,  and  we 
proceeded  slowly  home.  It  was  a  humiliat- 
ing experience,  as  it  always  is,  but  Uncle 
Jerdon  was  plainly  hugely  amused  at  my  pre- 
dicament. 

"I  guess  the  doctor  wan't  sorry  ye  had  to 
stop  here  alone,"  he  remarked.  "He's  a- 
makin'  the  most  of  his  time,  naow,  I  expect. 
Nothin'  like  a  little  friendly  rivalry  for  a 
bashful  man." 

"How  long  have  you  been  back?"  I  asked, 
not  caring  for  his  personalities. 

"Oh,  I  jest  happened  to  meet  'em  in  the 
north  lane  as  I  come.  I  guess  they  wan't  ex- 
pectin'  to  see  nobody  there,  by  the  way  it 
looked.  Miss  Fielding  ain't  so  crazy  but 
what  she  knows  what  she's  aba  out  sometimes, 
I  tell  ye!"  At  which  he  went  off  into  an 
ebullition  of  silent  laughter.  This  was  dis- 
210 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

quieting  enough  information,  for  I  could 
guess  what  he  had  seen,  though  I  couldn't 
afford  to  encourage  him.  So  I  changed  the 
subject. 

"How  long  have  you  been  down  here  with 
Miss  Fielding!" 

"Goin'  on  two  year,"  he  answered. 

"I  suppose  the  neighbors  talk  about  her  a 
good  deal!" 

"I  reckon  they  do!  But  they  don't  get 
nothin'  outen  me.  I  sit  an'  look  wise  an' 
chew  a  straw  an'  let  'em  talk.  Lord,  how 
they  do  try  to  pump  me !" 

"Doesn't  she  ever  see  any  of  them?" 

"Oh,  yes,  sometimes,  when  she's  0.  K.,  but 
she  don't  encourage  'em  callin'  much.  They 
think  she's  so  high  and  mighty,  though,  that 
they  don't  bother  her  to  any  great  extent." 

He  proceeded  now  of  his  own  accord. 

"She's  happy  enough  alone,  I  take  it. 
Lord!  I  don't  mind  her  at  all.  I  attend  to 
my  business  and  she  to  hern.  It  ain't  as  if 
I  was  a  woman  an'  curious,  ye  know.  But 
when  she  abuses  dumb  critters,  then  I  do  get 
211 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

mad.  I  jes'  see  oP  Nokomis  in  the  hazels, 
as  I  come  past.  She  had  her  tail  atween  her 
laigs,  an'  I'm  afraid  that  means  trouble.  I 
usually  see  to  it  that  the  dogs  is  got  outen 
the  way  when  she 's  looney,  but  I  expect  Leah 
must  have  forgot  to  attend  to  'em.  Funny 
King  didn't,  either.  But  it  will  happen  on 
occasion.  Some  day  they's  goin'  to  be 
trouble.  OP  Nokomis  knows  more'n  most 
folks  herself.  I  believe  King's  crazy,  too. 
He's  got  a  heathen  idol  in  his  cabin  he's  all 
the  time  worshipin'.  Burns  punk-sticks  an' 
a  little  peanut-oil  lamp  in  front  of  it,  night 
an'  day.  But  I  get  my  own  quiet  fun  outen 
it  all.  I  'm  satisfied. ' ' 

We  got  the  car  safely  home,  and  I  spent 
the  rest  of  the  afternoon,  with  Uncle  Jer- 
don's  assistance,  in  mending  the  chain  and 
doing  other  necessary  cleaning  and  repairs. 
Miss  Fielding  and  Doctor  Copin  stayed  shut 
in  the  library.  When  I  had  gone  up  to  my 
room  to  clean  myself,  Leah,  came  in,  bearing 
fresh  towels. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Castle,  can't  you  go  in  and  join 
212 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

them  1 ' '  she  said.  i  1 1  hate  to  have  them  alone 
for  so  long — you  don't  know  how  I  dread  it !" 

"What  are  you  afraid  of?"  I  asked. 

"I  don't  know!  I  don't  know!  Only  I 
don't  trust  him." 

"Have  you  seen  anything  more!" 

' '  Enough  to  make  me  worried. ' '  Then  she 
brought  out  painfully,  "Mr.  Castle,  do  you 
think  we  would  have  any  right  to — to  lis- 
ten?" 

"You  mean  really  to  eavesdrop?" 

"Yes."  There  was  a  look  of  pain  in  her 
eyes.  I  saw  by  this  confession  how  far  she 
had  gone  with  her  fears. 

"I  hardly  think  so,  yet,"  I  answered.  "It 
would  be  pretty  hard  for  us  to  do,  wouldn't 
it?" 

"But  you  remember  that  Miss  Joy  said, 
last  night,  that  she  would  leave  it  all  to  your 
judgment.  Oughtn't  we,  to  protect  her,  per- 
haps, find  out  just  what  it  is  he's  doing?" 

I  thought  it  over  at  length.  But  it  was  a 
resource  that  I  couldn't  help  wanting  to  leave 
till  the  last.  After  all,  it  wasn't  as  bad  as 
213 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

that,  yet.  Except  in  Edna's  familiarities 
with  me,  and  Leah's  vague  fears,  I  had  no 
reason  for  fearing  anything  wrong.  All  de- 
pended upon  the  doctor's  motives  in  being 
alone  with  her.  He  might,  indeed,  be  mak- 
ing love  to  her,  but  then,  perhaps  he  was 
truly  in  love;  he  might  even  want  to  marry 
her.  It  was  a  maddening  thought  for  me, 
but,  after  all,  it  was,  strictly,  none  of  my 
business.  He  had  a  right  to  try  to  woo  her, 
and  it  couldn't,  at  any  rate,  go  far  without 
Joy  herself  becoming  aware  of  it.  She  would 
be  the  first  to  acknowledge  that  Edna  had  a 
right  to  permit  it.  If,  however,  he  were  dis- 
honest in  his  motive,  if  he  were,  for  instance, 
after  her  money,  that  was  quite  another  mat- 
ter, and  it  was  obviously  my  place  to  inter- 
fere. "We  should  have,  at  least,  to  see  that 
Edna  could  not  get  hold  of  any  property. 

Lastly,  and  this  seemed,  at  that  time,  most 
probable,  he  might  only  be  carrying  on  a 
series  of  experiments  with  an  interesting  pa- 
tient for  some  technical  end.  True,  Joy  had 
herself  refused  to  permit  him  to  treat  her, 
214 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

and  this  probably  accounted  for  his  devoting 
himself  to  Edna ;  but  it  was  not,  so  far  as  I 
could  see,  dangerous.  My  position,  there- 
fore, was  a  delicate  one,  and  I  made  up  my 
mind  to  have  another  talk  with  Joy  before 
showing  my  hand  in  interference. 

I  went  over  all  this  with  Leah  and  she  lis- 
tened attentively.  She  iterated  that  she 
didn't  trust  Doctor  Copin,  and  that  she  feared 
there  was  danger  at  hand.  I  could  see  that 
the  hint  that  he  might  want  to  marry  Edna 
frightened  her  most  of  all. 

"How  can  I  tell  Miss  Joy?"  she  said. 
"How  can  I  hint  that  Edna  is  too  free  with 
him — and  all  the  rest  that  I  suspect?  Why, 
Mr.  Castle,  if  she  knew  that,  it  would  kill  her ! 
But  oughtn't  I  tell  her?  Is  it  fair  for  her 
not  to  know?  It's  the  most  awful  situation! 
I  can't  bear  to  think  of  it!  We  must  save 
her  from  herself,  though,  as  well  as  from  the 
knowledge  of  herself — do  you  see?" 

She  was  sensitively  alive  to  the  intricate 
phases  of  honor  that  were  entangled  in  the 
situation,  and,  showing  such  fineness  and  deli- 
215 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

cacy,  I  could  quite  ignore  the  fact  that  she 
was  a  negress.  But  that  was  merely  the  neg- 
ative aspect  of  my  admiration  for  her.  From 
this  time  on,  the  more  I  was  thrown  with  her 
in  the  intimate  way  required  by  our  coopera- 
tion, the  more  I  began  actually  to  find  in  her 
a  positive  beauty,  a  beauty  that  was  truly  of 
her  race  and  type — a  beauty  that  foreshad- 
owed what,  were  environment  to  permit  its 
development,  her  race  might  in  time  attain, 
when,  even  though  the  skin  were  still  dark, 
the  features,  insensibly  modified  by  mental 
processes,  would  lose  something  of  the  ex- 
travagance of  modeling  now  so  repellent  to 
whites. 

Such  vision  came  in  moments  like  this, 
when  her  spirit  was  aroused  and  free.  Usu- 
ally, and  always  when  suffering  patiently  the 
contempt  or  anger  of  Edna,  I  saw  her  only  as 
the  personification  of  loyalty,  the  loyalty  of 
the  hound  who  licks  the  hand  that  smites  him. 
It  was  then  as  if  her  woman's  soul  were 
crushed  back  farther  into  the  figure  of  the 
servant.  But  always  those  two  qualities 
216 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

were  finely  blended  in  her — she  was  slave  and 
friend,  not  alternately  but  at  once.  One 
dwelt  with  the  other  in  perfect  peace.  No 
hunchback  ever  carried  his  deformity  with  a 
nobler  grace  than  she  the  trial  of  her  color. 

Miss  Fielding  and  the  doctor  remained 
closeted  together  till  dinner-time,  when  we 
three  met  at  table.  She  was  slightly  flushed 
and  her  eyes  were  keen  and  bright.  It  was  as 
if  she  somehow  saw  more — as  if  she  had 
passed  from  that  curious,  mentally  apathetic 
state  which  I  have  called  childlike,  and  were 
inspecting  a  new  world.  But  this  analysis, 
no  doubt,  comes  from  what  I  learned  later 
rather  than  from  my  observation  at  that 
time.  Perhaps  all  that  impressed  me  then 
was  that  she  had,  in  some  way,  changed.  I 
could  find  no  way  in  which  to  account  for  the 
precise  degree  of  difference  that  I  noticed. 
She  was  alternately  gay  and  abstracted,  at 
which  latter  times  she  fell  unconsciously  into 
poses  so  like  those  of  her  normal  self — Joy's 
self — that  it  gave  me,  often,  a  start  of  sur- 
prise. 

217 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

But,  as  if  to  cover  all  this,  the  doctor  was 
more  than  usually  jocose  in  a  mechanical 
way  so  devoid  of  real  humor  that  it  irritated 
me.  Try  as  I  might,  I  could  not  get  him  to 
talk  seriously.  At  every  remark  or  question 
of  mine,  he  threw  me  off  with  some  non- 
sensical comment.  It  was  the  more  madden- 
ing because  of  Edna's  inevitable  laughter, 
and  it  was  evident  that  she  thought  him  a 
most  amusing  companion,  though  to  me  he 
seemed  wholly  without  atmosphere  or  radia- 
tion; everything  appeared  calculated,  de- 
liberate. I  saw  that  there  could  be  nothing 
between  us,  unless,  indeed,  it  should  come 
to  open  conflict.  He  was  the  sort  of  man 
who  could,  I  was  well  aware,  arouse  all  my 
antagonism.  It  was  easy  enough  to  see  that 
I  was  already  jealous. 

We  talked  on  thus  through  the  meal  and 
then  adjourned  to  the  library  for  our  coffee. 
As  we  entered  I  cast  a  quick  look  about  to 
see  if  I  could  catch  any  revealing  sign.  I  saw 
nothing  except  that  the  morris  chair  was 
drawn  up  to  another,  so  that  the  two  faced 
218 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

each  other,  almost  near  enough  to  touch. 
There  were  a  few  sheets  of  ruled  yellow  pa- 
per on  the  table.  These  the  doctor  took  up 
as  he  went  in,  and  placed  in  his  pocket. 

The  talk  languishing  after  a  while,  we  spent 
the  evening  at  cards,  and  what  with  the  doc- 
tor's sallies  and  Edna's  obvious  replies,  I 
think  I  was  never  more  bored  in  my  life. 
The  only  amusing  thing  about  it  was  the  way 
she  played  us  off,  one  against  the  other,  twit- 
ting the  doctor  with  his  remissness  when  he 
was  not  so  complimentary  as  I  was  to  her, 
and  accusing  me  of  a  lack  of  humor  when  I 
did  not  join  in  their  badinage.  She  distrib- 
uted her  favors  impartially,  upon  the  whole, 
though  I  caught  several  indications  of  some 
secret  understanding  between  them,  which 
was  not  surprising,  considering  the  length  of 
their  acquaintance.  He  seemed  to  enjoy  the 
evening  as  little  as  I,  and  to  be  a  trifle  em- 
barrassed, even  somewhat  anxious.  This  was 
evident  in  the  way  he  watched  her  covertly, 
and  in  the  way  he  headed  off  all  my  ques- 
tions, as  if  always  on  the  defense.  From  a 
219 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

look  she  gave  him,  once  or  twice,  I  got  the 
idea,  also,  that  his  foot  was  busy,  under  the 
table,  and  that  he  was  using  that  method  of 
signaling  when  the  conversation  got  danger- 
ously near  whatever  it  was  that  he  wished  to 
avoid.  This  interested  me  considerably  for 
the  reason  that  her  other  foot  was  touching 
mine  in  a  way  that  assured  me  of  her  con- 
scious intention.  The  situation  was  as 
unpleasant  as  it  was  extraordinary.  I  lost 
myself,  at  times,  in  the  inconsistency  of  it — 
the  strangeness  of  her  actions  so  unattuned 
to  the  exquisite  body  which  was  wont  to  house 
such  delicacies  of  soul.  She  had  indubitably 
changed  from  those  first  whimsical  madcap 
moods  of  the  morning.  Somehow  her  per- 
sonality had  deepened;  it  had  grown  in 
strength  and  color;  it  was  more  assertive. 
She  was  no  longer  carelessly,  thoughtlessly 
frank  and  forward,  she  had  some  definite 
motive. 

Her  coquetry  and  raillery  lasted,  thus,  till 
ten  o'clock,  when  she  excused  herself  and 
went  up  to  her  room.    The  doctor  and  I  re- 
220 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

mained  in  the  library.    I  determined  to  cross 
swords  with  him. 

"I'd  like  to  know  what  you  make  of  Miss 
Fielding's  case,"  I  began.  "Anything,  that 
is,  that  you  can  tell  me  with  propriety.  I 
confess  I  'm  much  interested  in  it. ' ' 

He  got  up,  long  and  thin,  put  his  hands 
behind  him  under  his  coat-tails,  and  stood 
backing  the  fireplace. 

"Oh,  I  know  what  you're  interested  in!" 
he  said  with  his  grin. 

"Do  you  think  there's  any  chance  of  her 
recovering?"  I  said,  ignoring  his  sarcasm. 

"What's  she  lost?"  he  asked. 

"Why,  herself,  hasn't  she?  To-day,  at 
least." 

"Oh,  she'll  find  that  to-morrow,  I  expect!" 
He  balanced  himself  on  his  toes  and  smoked 
complacently. 

I  might  as  well  stop  there,  I  knew,  but  at 
the  risk  of  being  impertinent  I  was  bound  to 
see  what  I  could  get  out  of  him. 

' i  Have  you  found  any  law  governing  these 
alternations?" 

221 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"Why,  yes;  I  have  good  reason  to  believe 
they  come  in  turn — first  one  and  then  the 
other/' 

I  got  up.  I  fancy  he  came  as  near  to  re- 
ceiving a  blow  on  the  point  of  the  chin  that 
moment,  as  he  ever  did  in  his  life.  But  I 
held  myself  in  check. 

"Of  course,  if  you  think  that  it's  none  of 
my  business,  I'll  ask  you  no  more  questions," 
I  said  angrily. 

"Oh,  no!  Oh,  no!"  He  shook  his  head 
with  a  deprecatory  wave.  "Only  sometimes 
it's  easier  to  ask  questions  than  to  answer 
them.  This  is  a  common  enough  case,  as  you 
know,  if  you  know  anything  about  psychology. 
A  mild  form  of  mania ;  that's  all. " 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  consider  it 
merely  insanity?"  I  demanded. 

"Oh,  we're  all  insane,  more  or  less,"  he 
pursued  in  his  maddening,  non-committal 
way.  "Insanity  is  a  relative  term,  you 
know.  'All  the  world  is  queer  but  thee  and 
me,  and  even  thee's  a  little  queer,'  as  the  old 
Quaker  said." 

222 


'I'd  like  to  know  what  you  make  of  Miss  Fielding's  case."     Page  221 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

» 

I  did  my  best  to  keep  my  temper.  "It's 
very  unfortunate,  at  all  events." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  We  can't  have  too 
many  of  such  fine  women  as  Miss  Fielding, 
can  we?  I'm  sure  I'd  like  to  know  a  half- 
dozen  of  them !" 

"You  must  confess  it's  hard  on  her." 

"Oh,  it  gives  her  something  interesting  to 
think  about.  All  alone  here,  you  know." 
He  waved  his  long  arm  comprehensively  over 
the  scene. 

"But  aren't  you  trying  to  do  anything  for 
her?  She  surely  wants  to  get  over  it."  I 
was  determined  to  push  him  into  some  defi- 
nite statement.  But  it  was  no  use. 

"Oh,  she'll  come  out  all  right,"  he  replied, 
yawning  behind  his  palm. 

' i  She 's  too  fine  a  woman,  as  you  say ;  she 
has  too  fine  a  character,  too  fine  a  mind — " 
I  began  in  protest. 

"My  dear  Mr.  Castle,  women  are  always 
changing  their  minds."  His  shoulders  shook 
as  he  laughed  silently  at  his  own  joke. 

"You'll  change  yours,  before  I've  finished 
223  - 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

with  you,"  I  said  to  myself.  But  there  was 
no  use  continuing  the  dialogue,  and,  bidding 
him  good  night,  I  went  up  to  bed.  Leah  had 
given  her  own  room  up  to  him  and  she  spent 
the  night  in  Miss  Fielding's  study.  I  heard 
him  come  stumbling  up  at  midnight. 


224 


IV 

It  was  with  a  feeling  of  great  relief  that, 
next  morning,  I  heard  the  dogs  barking  jubi- 
lantly in  the  yard,  answering,  each  in  turn, 
to  their  names.  Nokomis,  I  knew  by  her 
heavy  note,  had  returned  to  the  house.  Joy 
was,  then,  herself. 

This  was  better  than  I  had  dared  to  hope. 
My  suspicions  in  regard  to  the  doctor  were 
now  strengthened  and  I  felt  intuitively  that, 
in  some  way,  his  presence  at  Midmeadows  ac- 
counted for  the  increasing  frequency  of 
Edna's  visitations. 

The  last  three  days  had  shown  regular  al- 
ternations of  personality,  but  I  recalled  the 
fact  that  on  both  Monday  and  Tuesday  it  had 
been  Edna  who  had  possessed  Miss  Field- 
ing's body.  With  this  thought  came  also  the 
recollection  of  Joy's  unusual  actions  in  tele- 
phoning to  the  doctor." 
225 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

The  two  facts  seemed  to  indicate  a  signifi- 
cant relation — a  relation,  perhaps,  of  cause 
and  effect.  A  third  hint  came — that  such 
anomalous  states  of  personality  were  some- 
times developed  during  hypnosis — and  the 
three  separate  thoughts  snapped  together, 
crystallizing  into  an  idea.  Had  not  Doctor 
Copin  hypnotized  Edna,  and  given  her  the 
post-hypnotic  suggestion  that  she,  in  Joy's 
person,  should  telephone  to  him  in  the  morn- 
ing? It  seemed  probable,  for  I  could  not 
doubt,  now,  that  it  was  to  the  doctor's  interest 
to  keep  Miss  Fielding  as  long  and  as  often 
as  possible  in  her  secondary  state,  as  Edna. 
As  Edna  she  was  impressible  and  easily  man- 
aged to  his  ends.  Edna  invited  him  and  wel- 
comed him  to  Midmeadows,  while  Joy  was 
cold  and  reserved.  Everything  that  had  hap- 
pened dovetailed  into  my  hypothesis — his  an- 
noyance at  my  presence,  as  the  especial 
friend  of  Joy,  and  his  own  particular  culti- 
vation of  Edna — the  proof,  in  fact,  seemed 
conclusive.  What,  then,  was  he  trying  to 
do? 

226 


THE    WHITE    GAT 

I  went  down  early  and  found  him,  lean  and 
lank  in  his  suit  of  muddy  brown,  wandering 
about  outside,  his  long  hands  clasped  behind 
his  back.  He  greeted  me  civilly  enough,  but 
without  warmth.  I  did  not  disturb  him  in  his 
mood,  and  he  meandered  up  and  down,  turn- 
ing over  a  stone  with  his  foot  now  and  then, 
stooping  to  pluck  a  flower  and  sniff  it 
thoughtfully,  humming  a  tune  to  himself  as 
he  strolled. 

Leah  came  to  the  doorway,  gave  me  a 
happy  look,  nodded  meaningly,  and  passed  up 
stairs  with  Miss  Fielding 's  tray.  I  went 
back  to  the  stable  to  see  the  collies.  Nokornis 
bounded  up  to  me  and  nuzzled  my  hand.  Her 
forehead  showed  a  scar  where  the  whip 
handle  had  struck  her,  and  I  talked  to  her 
about  it  condolently,  in  canine  gutturals.  We 
seemed  to  understand  each  other  perfectly. 

At  half-past  eight  Leah  called  me  in  to 
breakfast.  I  found  Doctor  Copin  already  at 
table. 

"Going  up  to  town  to-day,   Castle?"  he 
asked,  tucking  his  sei-viette  into  his  collar. 
227 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"No,  I  hadn't  thought  of  it,"  I  said,  sit- 
ting down. 

"H'm!"  he  ejaculated  thoughtfully.  "I 
didn't  know  but  we  might  be  taking  the  same 
train." 

' 'Oh,  I  think  I'll  try  my  machine  when  I 
leave,"  I  said. 

He  grinned.  "Haven't  you  had  enough 
ground-and-lofty  tumbling  yet!" 

"Oh,  I'm  game.  It's  such  fools  as  I  that 
keep  you  fellows  busy ;  you  ought  to  encour- 
age us." 

He  smiled  dryly.  "How  long  do  you  ex- 
pect to  be  down  here?" 

The  boot  was  on  the  other  foot,  now,  and  I 
was  amused  at  his  interrogation. 

"I  have  some  business  to  talk  over  with 
Miss  Fielding,"  I  said.  "It  depends  largely 
upon  her  how  long  I  remain. ' ' 

"H'm!"    He  went  on  with  his  breakfast. 

When  Miss  Fielding  came  into  the  room 

my  first  glance  would  have  told  me  that  it 

was  Joy  herself,  even  if  I  had  not  been  given 

the  hint  already.    As  Edna,  one  would  have 

228 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

called  her  pretty — as  Joy  she  was  beautiful. 
The  lines  of  thought  and  care  had  returned  to 
her  face,  but  they  did  but  emphasize  the  rich- 
ness and  meaning  of  her  character,  replacing 
abandon  with  subtlety.  I  watched  the  doc- 
tor's eyes  leap  at  her,  and  then  fall,  disap- 
pointed. He,  too,  knew  in  a  glance.  He 
seemed  to  be  surprised  as  well  as  disap- 
pointed. Leah  had  evidently  not  told  him, 
and  he  had  not  dared  ask.  He  shrugged  his 
shoulders  almost  imperceptibly  as  we  both 
rose  to  meet  her. 

"Good  morning,  doctor!"  she  said,  giving 
him  her  hand,  smiling.  "I've  just  done  a 
funny  thing!  Leah  told  me  that  you  were 
here,  of  course,  when  I  waked  up,  but  I  for- 
got it  so  completely  that  I've  been  trying  to 
ring  you  up  on  the  telephone. ' ' 

I  saw  his  pale  blue  eyes  grow  narrower 
as  he  laughed  with  her.  He  was  pleased. 
"Well,  did  you  get  me?"  he  said. 

"Are  there  two  of  you,  too?"  she  returned, 
and  the  thing  passed  off  in  a  general  smile. 

I  took  it  that  she  had  already  heard  from 
229 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

Leah  of  what  had  happened  yesterday  and 
I  could  not  help  admiring  her  calmness  and 
self-restraint.  The  last  thing,  of  course,  that 
she  could  remember  would  be  her  anguish  of 
two  days  when  we  were  all  so  agitated  over 
Leah's  absence  and  dramatic  return,  and  that 
weary  vigil  in  the  library  trying  to  keep 
awake.  Joy  was  used  to  these  lapses ;  she  had 
been  so  long  schooled  by  her  changes  that 
she  was  usually  poised  outwardly  and  calm, 
ready  for  any  emergency,  on  her  guard 
against  betraying  surprise;  but  I  could  not 
help  picturing  to  myself  the  nervous  excite- 
ment of  her  awakening  when  her  memory 
first  rushed  back  and  she  had  to  learn  hur- 
riedly the  history  of  the  day  before.  How 
much,  I  wondered,  had  Leah  told  her? 

Her  attitude  toward  Doctor  Copin,  while 
quite  that  of  an  old  friend,  was  so  different 
from  what  it  had  been  the  night  before  that 
he  must  have  felt  somewhat  uncomfortable 
at  my  seeing  it.  Of  any  such  difference  Joy 
was  herself  quite  unconscious,  but  the  inter- 
est she  plainly  showed  in  me  served  to 
230 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

heighten  it.  She  was  still  full  of  gratitude 
toward  me  for  what  I  had  done  in  bringing 
Leah  back — the  doctor,  on  the  other  hand, 
was  only  making  one  of  his  periodical  calls ; 
she  was  anticipating,  also,  his  urging  again 
his  request  to  give  her  a  definite  course  of 
treatment,  a  thing  she  had  steadily  opposed. 
He  caine,  as  I  understood  it,  only  to  keep 
track  of  her  disorder  in  a  general  way,  and 
to  advise  her  with  regard  to  it;  and  it  was, 
so  far,  more  because  she  had  not  enough  con- 
fidence in  his  proficiency  in  this  special  sub- 
ject, rather  than  any  innate  distrust  of  his 
character,  that  had  impelled  her  to  refuse  a 
course  of  hypnotic  treatment. 

His  elaborate  wit  failed  to  receive  much 
encouragement  from  Joy.  The  conversation 
was,  therefore,  a  little  stiff  for  some  time, 
and  resulted  finally  in  a  dialogue  between 
Joy  and  me,  the  doctor  maintaining  a  silence 
almost  surly. 

After  breakfast,  however,  she  took  him 
into  the  library  for  a  short  colloquy  before 
it  was  time  for  him  to  leave.    I  waited  out- 
231 


THE    WHITE    OAT 

doors.  They  came  out  in  a  few  minutes,  she, 
I  saw,  a  little  disturbed,  a  frown  on  her  face. 
Uncle  Jerdon  drove  up  in  the  carriage  and 
the  doctor  got  in,  bade  us  a  conventional  fare- 
well, and  was  carried  off. 

We  sat  there  for  a  while  without  talk,  Joy 
gazing  straight  ahead  of  her,  absorbed  in  her 
own  thoughts.  Then  she  turned  to  me  and 
said : 

"Edna  is  coming  oftener  than  she  used  to. 
I  don't  like  it!" 

"Did  you  speak  of  it  to  the  doctor?" 

"Yes.  He  tried  to  reassure  me.  But  I'm 
still  uneasy.  It  was  bad  enough  before,  to 
lose  two  days  a  week,  but  if  I'm  to  be  robbed 
of  half  my  time,  it  will  be  unbearable." 

"Did  you  ask  him  if  he  thought  he  could 
prevent  it,  in  any  way?" 

"Yes,  and  he  asked  me  again  to  let  him 
hypnotize  me." 

"Oh,  I  hope  you  refused !" 

"Why?"  she  demanded,  turning  quickly  to 
me.  "I've  refused  only  because  I  didn't 
consider  him  able  enough — I  was  afraid  to 
232 


THE    WHITE    GAT 

experiment,  to  put  myself  into  his  power, 
alone  as  I  am  here,  and  without  friends.  I 
wasn't  quite  sure  enough  of  him.  Have  you 
any  other  reason  why  I  shouldn't?  He  said 
that  he  could  inhibit  Edna's  appearance,  if 
I  let  him  hypnotize  me.  He  said  she  ought 
to  he  sent  back  to  where  she  came  from,  and 
that  he  wanted  to  'wake  me  up,'  as  he  ex- 
pressed it — make  me  normal  again." 

' 1 Then  he  lied!"  I  remarked  decidedly. 

"Oh,  Chester,  you  don't  know  how  you 
frighten  me !  If  I  can 't  depend  upon  Doctor 
Copin,  a  physician,  where  can  I  look  for  help, 
and  for  protection  against  her?  You  have 
done  much  for  me,  but  you're  only  a  layman, 
after  all;  what  I  need  is  professional  ad- 
vice." 

"Yes,  of  course,"  I  said.  "It  is  imperti- 
nent of  me — it's  positive  audacity,  to  think  I 
can  help  you,  but,  don't  you  see,  the  doctor, 
if  he  isn't  to  be  trusted,  is  the  more  danger- 
ous because  of  his  knowledge?  He  can  do 
you  positive  harm." 

"Why  do  you  distrust  him?"  she  insisted. 
233 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"I  must  have  specific  reason  before  I  dare 
even  to  disregard  his  orders. ' ' 

"Very  well,  then,"  I  said.  "But  I  may 
seem  more  than  impertinent — even  inquisi- 
tive.'' 

She  made  a  fine,  impatient  gesture.  "Oh, 
we've  got  beyond  such  considerations — tell 
me!" 

I  turned  to  the  door  and  called  Leah,  who 
came  out  immediately. 

"Leah,"  I  said,  "do  you  know  how  much 
money  Miss  Fielding  had  in  the  house  yester- 
day?" 

"Forty  dollars,  exactly." 

"Will  you  please  find  out  how  much  of  thai 
is  left,  now?" 

She  ran  up-stairs,  while  we  waited.  She 
returned  in  a  few  minutes  with  Joy's  purse. 

"There's  only  fifteen  dollars  here,"  she 
said,  showing  the  money. 

"And  it  wasn't  spent  for  anything  you 
know  of?" 

"There's  no  possible  way  of  spending  it," 
she  answered. 

234 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

"Then  there's  twenty-five  dollars  to  ac- 
count for.  Doctor  Copin  undoubtedly  has  it. 
Are  you  in  the  habit  of  paying  him  cash, 
Joy?" 

"Oh,  no.  Always  by  check,  and,  of 
course,  /  settle  all  his  bills;  that's  understood 
between  us.  Edna  can't  draw  any  checks, 
anyway,  for  her  handwriting  is  quite  differ- 
ent from  mine.  What  could  she  have  given 
him  the  money  for?  Perhaps  she  didn't — 
how  can  we  tell?  Perhaps  she  hid  it  some- 
where. ' ' 

Leah  interposed.  "Oh,  no,  Miss  Joy,  the 
purse  was  in  your  room  all  the  time,  I'm 
sure." 

"It  may  have  been  justified — it's  barely 
possible,"  I  said.  "But  yesterday  Edna 
told  me  that  the  doctor  was  always  complain- 
ing of  being  hard  up.  What  else  would  he 
harp  on  that  for,  if  not  to  borrow  from  her? 
Frankly,  it's  my  opinion  that  he  does.  You 
know  how  impressionable  and  impulsive  she 
is — any  one  with  tact  can  easily  manage 
her." 

235 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

Joy  stared  at  me.  "Oh,  that  implies,  too, 
considerable  intimacy,  doesn't  it?  Much 
more  than  I  have  with  him,  at  least." 

"It  certainly  does,"  I  replied. 

She  caught  the  inflection  I  put  into  the  re- 
mark. "Do  you  mean — V9  She  stopped 
suddenly. 

"I  mean  that  he  is  not  above  suspicion; 
that  we  should  .watch  him." 

"I'll  never  let  him  come  down  here  again," 
she  cried.  "I'll  dismiss  him!" 

' '  We  must  go  slow, ' '  I  said.  ' '  We  must  be 
surer,  first;  and,  besides,  you  forget  that 
Edna  likes  him." 

A  look  of  pain  came  to  her  face.  "She 
likes  him?"  she  repeated. 

"He  cajoles  her.  She  flirts  with  him,  per- 
haps. At  any  rate,  I  doubt  if  she'll  refuse 
him  admittance." 

She  rose  and  began  to  walk  up  and  down 
the  gravel  walk.  "What  shall  we  do? 
What  shall  we  do?"  she  exclaimed,  extend- 
ing her  hands  toward  me.  "Why,  he  is  dan- 
gerous !  Chester,  I'm  positively  afraid,  now. 
236 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

It's  too  horrible.    It's  getting  worse  every 
day!" 

"Tell  me,"  I  said,  "why  have  you  been 
telephoning  to  him  every  day  or  so,  Joy? 
You  never  used  to,  Leah  says." 

She  looked  blankly  at  me.  "I  don't  know, 
I'm  sure.  It's  funny,  but  I  never  thought 
much  about  any  particular  message.  I  sup- 
pose I  was  simply  a  little  lonely  and  it  oc- 
curred to  me  to  ring  him  up,  that's  all." 
•  That  was  enough  for  me,  and  I  didn't  ex- 
plain the  reason  for  my  question.  She  had 
no  time  to  worry  about  it,  at  any  rate,  for 
just  then  Leah,  who  had  been  listening  si- 
lently, put  in : 

"Miss  Joy,  do  you  know  what  became  of 
that  little  gold  chain  of  yours  with  the  sap- 
phire pendant?  Edna  wore  it  yesterday,  but 
I  can't  find  it  anywhere." 

"Maybe  it's  up  in  my  room  somewhere," 
Joy  answered,  still  walking  up  and  down  the 
path.  Then  suddenly  stopping  she  faced  me. 

"Oh!    Do  you   suppose    she   could  have 
given  that  to  the  doctor,  too?"  she  exclaimed 
237 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

I  laughed.  "No,  she  gave  that  to  me  to 
keep  for  her,"  I  said,  and  I  drew  it  forth 
from  my  vest  pocket  where  it  had  remained 
since  the  little  scene  behind  the  stable. 

Joy's  eyes  had  followed  my  hand  and  fixed 
on  the  chain  as  I  held  it  out.  Her  lips 
opened  with  a  swift  intake  of  air  as  she  gazed. 
The  two  vertical  lines  appeared  in  her  fore- 
head. She  put  out  a  hand  tentatively,  but 
did  not  touch  the  ornament.  It  was  as  if  she 
were  in  a  trance.  Then  her  lips  moved  auto- 
matically. 

"Keep  it — safe — for  me,  please!'9  she 
whispered.  Suddenly  her  hand  went  to  her 
forehead.  "Oh,  what  was  it?"  she  cried. 

"Try  to  recall  the  rest!"  I  commanded, 
watching  her  sharply. 

She  thought  a  moment,  then  shook  her  head 
decidedly.  "No,  it's  gone  now,"  she  said. 

"You  can  get  nothing  more?"  was  my  sug- 
gestion. 

"Nothing.    It  was  like  a  dream,  like  some- 
thing I  had  done  and  said  before.    What  does 
it  mean — do  you  know?" 
238 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"It's  precisely  what  you  did  say — what 
Edna  said,  that  is — yesterday." 

For  some  time  she  was  too  bewildered  to 
speak,  and  stood  staring  at  me — through  me. 
"You  mean  that  Edna  said  what  I've  just 
said!"  she  asked. 

6 '  Yes. ' '    I  handed  the  chain  to  her. 

She  put  it  away  with  a  sharp  gesture. 
"Oh,  no!  If  she  gave  it  to  you,  keep  it!  I 
have  no  right — "  She  turned  away. 

"But  it  was  only  to  keep  till  we  got  home," 
I  explained. 

She  looked  at  me  keenly  and  threw  back 
her  shoulders  proudly.  "No,  it  wasn't. 
She  meant  you  to  have  it. ' ' 

"You  remember  it,  then?" 

She  smiled  sadly,  pityingly.  "No.  But 
I'm  a  woman,  and  I  know." 

Walking  away  to  a  rose-bush,  she  plucked 
a  bud  and  returned  slowly,  as  if  to  hide  some 
emotion.  It  was  quite  time  to  comfort  her. 

"Joy,"  I  said,  taking  her  hand  and  bring- 
ing her  to  the  steps  again,  "I  have  been  do- 
ing a  good  deal  of  thinking,  and  I  have  a 
239 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

theory  that  I'd  like  to  prove.  I'd  rather  not 
say  anything  about  it  till  I'm  sure  of  it,  but 
when  I  am,  I'll  tell  you.  Have  I  your  per- 
mission to  use  my  own  judgment,  even  to  the 
point,  perhaps,  of  eavesdropping?" 

"Oh,  is  that  necessary,  do  you  think!" 
She  clasped  her  hands  nervously  at  the 
thought.  "I  don't  know.  It's  all  so  mixed 
up  in  my  mind.  Who  can  settle  the  ethics  of 
a  case  like  this?" 

"It  may  come  to  a  fight  between  you  and 
Edna,  I  think." 

"Oh,  that's  what  it  has  come  to!"  she  ex- 
claimed. "That's  what  is  killing  me.  Who 
is  Edna?  Where  did  she  come  from?  Where 
does  she  belong?  I  must  be  fair — I  want 
to  be  just  to  her,  however  she  treats  me. 
If  I  could  only  see  her  or  hear  her — if  we 
could  only  communicate  in  some  way,  there 
might  be  an  agreement.  But  she's  like  a 
ghost — a  character  in  a  book.  Is  she  a  dif- 
ferent person,  or  only  some  phase  of  myself? 
Dare  I  come  into  open  conflict  with  her? 
Why,  I  may  be  only  destroying  myself!  I 
240 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

have  to  be  she,  don't  I?  Shan't  I  have  to 
bear  whatever  I  do  to  her?  How  do  I  know 
what  danger  may  lie  in  any  action  I  may 
take!" 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  "I've  thought  of  all  that. 
I'm  convinced  that,  as  the  doctor  says,  it's 
only  a  case  of  'waking  you  up.'  It's  as  if 
you  were  a  somnambulist — walking  in  your 
sleep — dreaming  half  the  time,  irresponsi- 
bly. To  wake  you  up  may  be  uncomfortable 
for  her.  It  may  be  like  a  surgical  operation 
that  she  has  to  suffer,  but  when  it's  over 
you  '11  regain  your  health  and  reason,  and,  by 
the  same  token,  so  will  she,  and  you'll  forget 
all  the  pain.  However,  it  hasn't  come  to 
that  yet.  What  I  want,  now,  is  the  right  to 
explore,  investigate,  examine,  experiment, 
perhaps,  and  then,  when  I  have  decided  for 
myself,  we  can  decide  what  course  to  adopt. 
If  you're  the  White  Cat,  I'm  going  to  be  the 
Prince,  and  save  you!" 

She  took  my  hand  and  pressed  it  affec- 
tionately. 

"I  trust  you,  Chester,  and  I'll  agree  to 
241 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

anything  you  think  best.  I  feel  as  if  I  were 
being  drawn  into  a  maelstrom.  Oh,  what 
wouldn't  I  give  to  be  just  a  normal,  natural 
person,  like  every  one  else!  Why  am  I  tor- 
mented so?  Yes,  you  must  help  me, 
Prince!" 

"Well,  then,  now  we'll  talk  no  more  of  it 
for  a  while.  Let's  forget  it,  and  go  and  see 
the  collies." 

Her  face  cleared  and  she  sprang  up,  tossed 
back  her  head  with  her  characteristic  gesture 
and  went  with  me  to  the  stable.  The  dogs 
were  all  out  in  the  sun,  and  as  soon  as  we  ap- 
peared they  surrounded  us  joyfully.  Noko- 
mis  walked  up  to  Joy  in  her  stately  way  and 
offered  a  paw. 

"Why,  Nokomis!"  Joy  exclaimed,  "how 
did  you  get  this  awful  cut  on  your  head  1  We 
must  attend  to  it  immediately!  Chester, 
won't  you  go  in  and  get  me  some  water  and 
some  salve  ?  Leah  will  give  them  to  you. ' ' 

When  I  came  back  she  was  sitting  on  the 
ground  with  the  dog's  head  on  her  lap.  No- 
komis'  deep  brown,  soft  eyes  looked  up 
242 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

gratefully  while  the  wound  was  washed  and 
dressed.  The  tears  actually  came  to  my  eyes 
at  the  sight.  The  scene  of  yesterday,  when 
these  two  were  arrayed  against  each  other, 
seemed  impossible.  It  should  go  without 
saying  that  I  made  no  mention  of  it  to  Joy, 
for  it  was  evident  that  she  had  no  idea  of 
Edna's  treatment  of  the  collies. 

6 1  Now,  Nokomis, ' '  Joy  said,  getting  up  and 
shaking  the  dust  off  her  skirt,  "listen!  I 
want  you  to  go  in  the  house  and  get  my  golf- 
jacket,  and  bring  it  to  me."  She  spoke  very 
distinctly,  accenting  the  important  words. 
Nokomis  trotted  to  the  kitchen  door,  barked 
sharply,  and  was  admitted. 

"I'm  educating  her,"  Joy  explained  to  me. 
"I  want  to  see  how  far  I  can  get  her  to  un- 
derstand what  I  say.  This  is  rather  a  test, 
for  there  are  at  least  three  related  ideas,  the 
house,  the  jacket  and  bringing  it  back.  But 
she 's  extraordinary  at  picking  up  words ;  she 
has  really  quite  a  vocabulary.  Of  course, 
you  hear  a  good  many  stories  of  the  intelli- 
gence of  collies,  but  I  Ve  never  heard  of  their 
243 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

being  systematically  trained  except  in  a  utili- 
tarian way.  I'm  experimenting  with  more 
and  more  complex  ideas.  I  hate  the  ordinary 
dog  tricks;  they're  undignified  and  unworthy. 
I'm  tremendously  interested  in  animal  psy- 
chology. Queer,  isn't  it,  when  I  can't  even 
handle  my  own!" 

Nokomis  appeared,  in  a  distressed  frame 
of  mind,  and  whined. 

"Well,  Noko,  what's  the  matter?  Can't 
you  find  it?" 

Nokomis  barked,  ran  a  few  steps  towards 
the  house,  and  returned. 

"All  right,  we'll  go  in  and  see  what's  the 
matter." 

So  we  followed  her  into  the  house.  The 
red  golf-coat  that  Edna  had  worn  yesterday 
was  hanging  upon  a  hat-stand  in  the  hall. 
Nokomis  went  to  it,  shook  it  with  her  teeth, 
turned  round  and  whined.  It  was  as  near 
talking  as  a  dog  could  do. 

6 1  Oh,  I  see, ' '  said  Joy.  ' '  You  got  the  house 
and  the  coat  all  right,  but  you  thought  I 
meant  just  to  come  back,  did  you?  No,  bring, 
244 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

Nokomis,  bring,  bring,  bring!"  As  she 
spoke,  she  placed  the  jacket  in  Nokomis' 
teeth  and  showed  her  what  was  meant. 
"Next  time  you'll  know,  won't  you?"  she 
said. 

"Now  we'll  try  your  number  lesson,"  Joy 
said  as  we  went  back  to  the  stable.  She  and 
I  sat  down  on  a  watering-trough,  while  Noko- 
mis waited,  her  head  tipped,  her  ears  straight 
up,  with  the  soft  silky  tips  drooping  like  tas- 
sels. Her  sloping  eyes  were  quick  and 
canny. 

"One!  "said  Joy. 

A  single  bark  from  Nokomis. 

"Two!" 

Correct,  again. 

"Three!" 

Still  correct. 

"Four!" 

Nokomis  was  perfect. 

"Five!" 

Four  barks,  then,  after  a  pause,  another. 

"Six!" 

This  was  too  much  for  the  collie.      She 
245 


THE    WHITE    CAT; 

barked,  I  think,  eight  times,  having  quite  lost 
her  head. 

" Pretty  good,  isn't  it?"  said  Joy,  as  I  con- 
gratulated Nokomis — on  the  neck,  at  the  spot 
dogs  love.  "This  is  straight  culture,  you 
know,  no  trick.  I  don't  give  her  any  sign,  as 
they  do  stage  dogs.  I'm  just  trying  to  see 
how  far  she  can  go.  I've  begun,  too,  to  teach 
her  colors,  but  I  haven't  succeeded  very 
well." 

"It's  immensely  interesting,"  I  said.  "I 
wonder  why  collies  are  so  much  more  intel- 
ligent than  other  dogs. ' ' 

"They  aren't.  Caniches  are  fully  as 
bright,  but  collies  have  been  trained  for  gen- 
erations with  the  sheep,  and  it  has  raised  the 
level  of  perception.  That 's  why  I  try  to  keep 
up  their  education,  for  of  course  they'll  de- 
teriorate if  they're  only  bred  for  exhibition 
purposes.  But  the  training  of  the  shepherds 
isn't  everything.  My  theory  is  that  the  rea- 
son why  a  collie  is  quicker  is  because  his 
eyes  are  trained.  Most  dogs,  you  know, 
won't  use  their  eyes  if  they  can  use  their 
246 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

noses  or  their  ears.  Hunting  dogs  will  run 
past  quarry  that's  in  plain  sight,  following 
a  scent  without  looking.  A  collie  has  to 
watch  his  sheep  sharply,  and  his  eye  is  de- 
veloped. Their  ears  have  been  trained,  too, 
by  the  shepherds. ' ' 

"How  long  would  Nokomis  keep  this  up, 
obeying  your  orders  f ' ' 

Nokomis,  who  had  been  resting  inatten- 
tively, looked  up  immediately. 

"As  long  as  I  asked  her  to — wouldn't  you, 
old  girl?"  Joy  rubbed  the  dog's  neck  with 
her  toe.  "A  dog's  chief  joy  is  to  be  in  some 
way,  in  as  many  ways  as  possible,  a  part  of 
his  master.  I  never  knew  Nokomis  to  tire 
of  doing  anything  that  kept  up  and  accented 
that  relation.  It  is  the  mainspring  of  a  good 
dog's  life — it  accounts  for  a  dog's  devotion. 
It's  trite  enough  to  say,  but  there  is  no  love 
on  earth  so  sure  as  a  dog's  love.  It's  un- 
ending! it's  unchangeable!" 

Did  Nokomis  know,  as  she  watched  her 
mistress  there,  of  that  strange  soul  that  stole 
into  the  girl's  form  at  night?  Did  she  an- 
247 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

swer  for  herself  instinctively,  with  an  ani- 
maPs  secret  prescience,  the  question  that  Joy 
had  asked  in  anguish —  "Who  is  Edna?" 
The  thought  came  into  my  mind  as  I  heard 
Joy's  words,  pathetic  in  their  unconscious- 
ness of  how  the  love  of  Nokomis  waxed  and 
waned  with  her  own  obsession.  Surely  Noko- 
mis was  loyal  and  true.  Surely  she  had 
never  betrayed  her  mistress'  confidence. 
Perhaps  the  collie  alone  knew  the  secret  of 
the  White  Cat. 

We  took  Nokomis  with  us,  and  walked  over 
the  hill  as  we  had  walked  the  day  before. 
"We,"  I  say,  for,  had  any  spectator  been  on 
the  hillside  to  watch  us  pass  on  both  days  he 
could  have  seen  no  difference  in  the  couple. 
With  me  was  the  same  gracile  creature 
abounding  with  life  and  beauty,  the  same 
small,  brown-haired,  brown-eyed  woman  with 
the  flower-like  hands. 

But  I  need  not  say  how  different  she  was 

in  talk,  in  gesture,  in  her  mental  attitude 

toward  me.    Yet,  though  I  have  shown  Joy 

as  intense,  even  as  melancholy,  this  was  not 

248 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

her  natural  quality.  She  could  be  as  gay 
and  debonair  as  Edna,  but  it  was  vivacity 
of  a  different  key.  Her  laugh  was  as  light 
and  ringing,  but  it  was  provoked  by  other 
occasions.  Her  sallies  were  as  joyous,  but 
they  sparkled  with  wit  and  comprehension. 
She  was  as  frank,  but  she  was  keen  as  well. 
So  it  was  not. so  much  the  sunny-dewy  as 
against  the  qqiet-shadowy,  as  it  was  April 
rivaled  by  'June. 

After  luncheon  with  Leah,  we  went  up  to 
Joy's  private  sitting-room,  or  study,  as  she 
called  it — and  it  was  really  that,  as  I  saw 
by  the  books  which  lined  its  walls.  She  had 
indeed  time  enough  to  read  them!  It  was 
a  woman's  room,  but  it  was  expressive  of 
virility  as  well  as  taste.  Like  most  of  the 
other  rooms,  except  the  sleeping  chambers 
and  the  dining-room,  it  was  paneled  to  the 
ceiling— Joy  confessed  that  she  disliked 
plaster  even  when  covered  with  paper.  The 
wood  here  was  a  beautifully  grained  poplar 
and  the  general  air  of  lightness  and  cool- 
ness was  helped  by  the  high,  irregular,  ceiled 
249 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

roof  whose  beams  and  ties  stretched  across 
from  wall  to  wall.  The  ship-like  bay-window 
which  I  had  noticed  from  the  outside  was  a 
nest  of  cushions  of  all  colors  of  the  rainbow 
— I  speak  literally — varying  from  violet, 
through  blue,  green,  yellow  and  orange  to  red 
and  purple  again.  There  was  a  great  table 
here  where  I  saw  a  large  microscope  and  case 
of  slides.  An  upright  piano  stood  in  a  corner. 
I  noticed  also  a  typewriter,  and  a  camera  on  a 
tripod.  The  place  had  an  air  of  work  and 
study  quite  different  from  Edna's  clutter 
and  disorder.  It  showed  me  in  a  glance  how 
it  had  been  possible  for  her  to  live  alone, 
so  far  away  from  civilization. 

Here  we  spent  the  afternoon  discussing  her 
condition  and  prospects.  She  asked  me  much 
about  Edna,  for,  though  she  had  always  been 
kept  informed  of  Edna's  actions  by  Leah, 
and  had  attained  by  this  time  a  pretty  good 
comprehension  of  her  alternate's  character, 
she  was  much  interested  in  my  opinions  and 
conclusions,  and  I  was  able  to  cast  new  lights 
upon  this  second  self  of  hers  which  gave  her 
250 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

a  new  point  of  view.  I  could  not  yet  bring 
myself  to  speak  of  Edna's  coquetries,  for  of 
this  she  had  no  suspicion.  There  had  been 
few  visitors  to  Midmeadows  since  she  had 
lived  there,  only  the  doctor  and  her  lawyer, 
I  believe ;  for  she  had,  of  late  years,  become 
more  and  more  retiring  as  Edna's  appear- 
ances had  become  more  frequent. 

Whatever  indiscretions  Edna  had  permit- 
ted herself  with  the  doctor  had  been  well 
concealed,  as  they  were  so  much  alone.  I  my- 
self would  never  have  suspected  anything, 
had  she  not  been  free  enough  with  me  to  set 
me  on  the  watch.  And  all  this  sort  of  thing, 
too,  had  evidently  been  only  of  recent  growth 
— it  was  coincident  with  Edna's  increasing 
"strength."  I  don't  think  that  either  Leah 
or  I  had,  for  an  instant,  any  compunction  on 
Edna's  account  against  informing  Joy  of 
what  might  be  going  on.  We  were  loyal  to 
Joy  alone — it  seemed  unquestionable  that  she 
was  the  rightful  sovereign  self,  and  that  the 
other  was  an  interloper — our  devotion  did 
not  hesitate  at  any  violation  of  confidence  in- 
251 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

cident  to  such  a  revelation.  But  we  wanted 
to  spare  Joy's  feelings  as  long  as  possible. 
For,  under  whatever  spell,  it  was  still  Miss 
Fielding  whose  actions  we  must  criticize.  Ir- 
responsible as  she  was,  she  could  hardly  bear 
to  think  of  herself  as  appearing  in  such  a 
light,  knowing  what  the  picture  must  be  in 
our  eyes,  and  her  own.  Indeed,  it  takes  a 
more  than  ordinary  amount  of  philosophy  to 
know  that  one  has  shown  a  lack  of  taste  or 
delicacy  even  under  the  effects  of  an  anes- 
thetic or  an  intoxicant,  without  suffering 
from  mortification  and  shame.  Her  embar- 
rassment would  be  quite  as  poignant  as  her 
sensibility  was  exquisite. 

Joy  had  kept  a  diagram  of  her  changes, 
and  she  got  it  out  from  her  desk  to  show  me. 
The  first  appearance  of  No.  2  had  occurred 
when  she  was  about  fourteen  years  old;  the 
second  a  month  or  so  later,  and  there  had 
been  this  usual  interval  until  she  was  about 
twenty-one.  From  that  time  on,  the  appear- 
ance of  No.  2  had  increased  in  frequency,  un- 
til for  the  last  few  years  it  had  settled  into  a 
252 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

fairly  regular  average  of  two  days  in  every 
week.  There  had  been  in  her  early  child- 
hood, beginning  when  she  was  seven  years 
old,  some  curious  abnormal  tendencies  that 
had  not  been  recorded ;  it  seemed,  therefore, 
that  her  development  was  progressing, 
roughly,  in  seven-year  cycles. 

If  that  were  so,  the  present  daily  alterna- 
tion of  personalities  seemed  to  predict  a 
gradual  overthrow  of  her  normal  self,  the 
original  No.  1.  The  more  I  discussed  it  with 
her,  however,  the  surer  I  was  that  this  sud- 
den access  of  strength  on  the  part  of  Edna 
was  chiefly  attributable  to  the  doctor's  in- 
fluence. I  did  not  say  so  in  so  many  words 
to  Joy,  for  I  wanted  first  to  prepare  my  plan, 
but  there  was  no  doubt,  in  my  mind,  that 
whatever  was  his  object  in  overthrowing 
Joy's  control,  and  making  Edna  paramount, 
my  coming  had  somewhat  interfered  with  his 
experiments,  and  he  had  consequently  in- 
creased his  energy  in.  a  determination  to  suc- 
ceed as  soon  as  possible  in  his  attempt  at  the 
replacement.  How  terrible  this  slow  eclipse 
253 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

of  her  soul  must  be  to  Joy,  I  knew  well 
enough. 

It  is  hardly  to  be  wondered  at,  therefore, 
that,  thrown  into  intimate  contact  with  so 
beautiful  and  so  rare  a  character,  I  should 
bend  all  my  will  and  powers  toward  helping 
her  in  her  misfortune.  I  had  decided  al- 
ready to  make  any  sacrifice,  and  devote  all 
my  time  to  the  task.  Nor  is  it  to  be  won- 
dered at,  I  think,  that,  so  devoting  myself  to 
her  cause  and  being  so  privileged  to  study 
her  closely,  I  should,  by  this  time,  have  fallen 
deeply  in  love  with  her.  Her  very  despera- 
tion, her  hopeless,  futile  struggle  against 
something  outside  any  ordinary  human  ex- 
perience drew  me  to  her  with  an  ever- 
increasing  fondness.  Her  reliance  on  my  aid 
strengthened  the  bond  day  by  day,  hour  by 
hour.  How  much  the  doctor's  interest  in  her 
had  given  me  the  additional  fillip  of  jealousy, 
I  would  not  care  to  say. 

We  came  back  to  the  incident  of  the  gold 
chain  more  than  once.  What  did  that  phe- 
nomenon mean?  It  was  almost  the  first,  and 
254 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

certainly  the  strongest  and  clearest  symp- 
tom of  a  common  share  in  Edna's  life  that 
Joy  had  ever  had.  Was  it,  then,  Joy's  dim 
vision  of  Edna's  experience,  or  was  it  more 
sinister  and  significant,  an  evidence  of  Edna 's 
ability  to  project  herself  into  Joy's  waking 
life  ?  Did  Edna,  perhaps,  have  a  coexistent, 
subconscious  life!  That  it  meant  something, 
that  it  marked  some  new  phase  in  this  last 
cycle  of  development,  we  were  both  sure. 

So  we  talked  and  talked  that  afternoon  and 
through  dinner.  In  the  evening,  exhausted 
with  speculation,  we  gave  it  all  up.  Joy 
played  her  violin  for  me  for  an  hour  or  so, 
and  we  lost  all  thought  of  the  problem  in  our 
common  enjoyment  of  her  music.  Then  we 
started  a  game  of  chess,  which,  hard  fought, 
lasted  till  bed-time. 

Before  we  retired,  Joy  went  out  to  see  the 
dogs,  and  on  returning  she  brought  in  No- 
komis. 

"I  think  I'll  let  her  sleep  in  my  room  to- 
night,  Leah,   she's   got   such  a   poor,   sore 
head,"  she  remarked. 
255 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

Leah  looked  at  me  as  if  to  ask  my  help  or 
advice. 

"Aren't  you  afraid  that — Edna  may  ob- 
ject in  the  morning,  if  she  should  be  there?" 
I  asked. 

Instantly  her  suspicions  were  aroused. 
"Object  to  Nokomis!  Dear  old  Nokomis, 
how  could  she?" 

Nokomis  whined  anxiously,  stretched  her 
forelegs  and  waited. 

I  did  not  know  what  to  say.  Joy  knew,  of 
course,  that  Edna  was  not  particularly  fond 
of  the  collies,  but  she  had  no  idea  of  the  ex- 
tent of  her  dislike.  There  was,  I  feared, 
some  danger  if,  after  what  had  happened 
yesterday,  Edna  and  Nokomis  found  them- 
selves together  in  the  same  room.  Still,  I 
wished  to  spare  Joy,  as  long  as  possible, 
knowledge  that  would,  I  was  sure,  make  her 
extremely  sad.  As  Leah  had  tacitly  left  it 
for  me  to  decide,  I  said : 

"Leah,  can't  you  call  Nokomis  out  early 
in  the  morning,  before  Miss  Fielding  awakes 


— in  case " 


256 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"Yes,  I  think  it  will  be  all  right,''  she  re- 
plied. 

If  Joy  suspected  anything  definite  in  this 
quick  exchange  of  glances  she  did  not  in- 
quire. She  turned  to  bid  me  good  night,  and 
went  up-stairs,  Nokomis  with  her. 


257 


I  was  aroused  in  the  night  by  a  growling 
in  Miss  Fielding's  room.  Wide  awake  in  an 
instant,  I  sat  up  in  bed  and  listened  intently, 
but  I  had  not  had  time  to  get  up  before  I 
heard  a  short,  angry  yelp,  and  then  Noko- 
mis'  footsteps  pattering  out  of  the  room  and 
going  down-stairs  in  hasty  jumps.  I  struck 
a  match  and  looked  at  my  watch.  It  was  a 
quarter  past  two  o'clock.  I  knew  well 
enough,  then,  that  Edna  would  take  Miss 
Fielding's  place  in  the  morning.  It  was 
much  as  if  a  ghost  had  entered  the  house  and 
lurked  in  the  darkness.  For  a  long  time  I 
was  too  agitated  to  sleep. 

The  next  day  was  cool  and  cloudy.  I 
found  a  fire  burning  in  the  library  when  I 
went  down-stairs  and  Leah  was  there,  put- 
ting the  room  to  rights.  She  looked  up  at 
258 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

me  gratefully,  as  if  it  were  a  consolation  to 
her  to  have  some  one  to  depend  upon. 

Leah  had,  by  this  time,  begun  to  treat  me 
quite  as  if  I  were  her  master.  I  had  always 
tried  to  meet  her  upon  terms  which  would 
prove  that  I  had  no  prejudice  on  account  of 
her  color,  but  that  very  attitude  of  mine 
seemed  to  make  her  more  willing  to  do  me  un- 
looked-for service.  I  am  told  that  this  is  not, 
as  a  rule,  true  of  negroes,  and  the  Southern- 
ers, who  by  sentiment  and  tradition  hold 
themselves  as  superior  in  virtue  of  their 
birth,  keep  the  respect  of  colored  folk  and  re- 
ceive a  willing  acceptation  of  subservience 
that  no  Northerner,  capable  of  no  such  race 
feeling,  can  achieve.  That  Leah's  gratitude 
for  my  consideration  did  express  itself  in 
such  devotion  proves,  perhaps,  only  that  she 
was  intrinsically  finer — that  she  was,  as  T 
have  already  expressed  it,  ahead  of  her  time. 
There  was  much  pathos  in  it,  nevertheless, 
for  I  was  quite  ready  to  regard  her  as  a 
social,  as  she  was,  undoubtedly,  a  moral 
equal. 

259 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"Did  you  hear  Nokomis?"  she  asked  im- 
mediately. 

"I  should  say!  Didn't  it  awaken  Miss 
Fielding?'' 

"Oh,  no,  she  sleeps  heavily  at  these  times. 
But  it  awakened  me — wasn't  it  horrible! 
It  was  Miss  Edna  coming  in !  Think  of  it ! " 

"How  is  she  this  morning?" 

"Fretful  and  irritable — to  me,  at  least. 
She  asked  for  you,  and  she  has  been  tele- 
phoning to  the  doctor  again.  Oh,  I  wish  you 
might  prevent  that.  What  does  she  do  it 
for,  Mr.  Castle?" 

"He  is  probably  making  her  do  it,"  I  re- 
plied. "You  see,  he  has  attained  a  sort  of 
power  over  her,  I  suspect.  Just  how  much, 
we  must  try  to  find  out.  Have  you  any  idea 
what  she  said?" 

"No;  she  sent  me  out  of  the  room.  But  I 
think  he'll  probably  be  down  to-day.  How 
I  dread  it!  Why  does  he  come  here  so  of- 
ten?" 

"He's  coming  down,  Leah,  because  he 
realizes  that  we've  begun  to  fight  him.  It 
260 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

will  be  open  war,  this  time,  I  expect.  We 
don't  like  each  other,  and  I  strongly  suspect 
that  by  to-night  the  cards  will  be  shown 
down. ' ' 

"He's  trying  to  get  rid  of  me!"  she  said 
hopelessly,  going  on  with  her  dusting. 

"Well,  he'll  have  to  beat  me  there,  first," 
I  said.  "So  long  as  Edna  doesn't  have  two 
days  running  I  think  I  can  keep  you  here 
safely.  But  we  must  be  ready  for  the  worst. 
Is  there  any  place  near  here  where  you  could 
stay,  if  necessary,  for  a  day  or  so?" 

She  reminded  me  of  the  old  cabin  a  little 
way  down  the  road,  and  thought  it  might  be 
fitted  up  well  enough.  She  wouldn't  be 
afraid  to  stay  there  alone,  and  could  probably 
manage  her  meals  somehow,  through  King, 
who  was  always  ready  to  help  her. 

"Have  you  a  revolver?"  I  asked* 

"Miss  Joy  has  one,  and  I  can  easily  get 
it." 

"It  might  be  well  to  have  it  at  hand,"  I 
suggested.  "I'd  advise  you  to  ask  Uncle 
Jerdon  to  clean  up  the  cabin  for  you.  And 
261 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

be  sure  that  the  collies  are  fastened  up,  too, 
won't  you?  Where's  Nokomis  now?" 

"Nokomis  came  down-stairs  and  spent  the 
rest  of  the  night  in  the  kitchen.  When  King 
opened  the  door,  she  went  out.  She'll  not 
come  back,  I  think,  till  Miss  Joy's  herself 
again." 

"That  will  be  to-morrow,  I  trust.  But  by 
that  time  we  must  have  something  definite  to 
report  to  her.  To-day,  if  possible,  I  am  go- 
ing to  find  out  exactly  what  the  doctor  is  up 
to.  I  shall  hold  back  for  no  scruples;  I'll 
listen,  I'll  lie  and  I'll  cheat  to  find  out  his 
game  and  how  to  outwit  him ! ' ' 

"I'll  do  anything  you  say,  too,  Mr.  Castle. 
I'm  willing  to  take  the  same  pledge."  This 
was,  for  her,  the  consummate  sacrifice.  She 
would,  I  am  sure,  have  given  her  honor,  if 
necessary,  to  save  her  mistress. 

We  were  interrupted  then,  by  Miss  Field- 
ing's appearance — I  dare  not  call  her  Edna, 
lest  one  forgets  that  in  almost  every  outward 
aspect  she  was  unchanged.  Indeed,  had  her 
body,  instead  of  her  mind,  been  metamor- 
262 


THE    WHITE    CAT, 

phosed,  I  think  it  would  have  been  easier  to 
adjust  one's  self  to  the  strangeness  of  it. 
But  Edna's  words  and  Edna's  actions  con- 
stantly gave  the  lie  to  Joy's  voice  and  Joy's 
face.  One  could  not  even  treat  her  as  in- 
sane. It  was  definitely  another  person  in 
masquerade.  My  soul  went  out  to  her  at  the 
sight,  to  return  chilled  at  the  revelation  of 
that  strangeness.  I  was  constantly  being 
tricked  by  my  memory.  When  I  had  become 
so  interested  in  the  conversation  as  not  to  no- 
tice her  appearance  it  was  easy  enough  to  feel 
that  I  was  talking  to  quite  another  than  Joy, 
but  upon  my  first  sight  of  her,  or  when,  after 
having  looked  away  for  a  while  my  eyes  re- 
turned suddenly  to  her,  the  surprise  of 
Edna's  words  coming  from  Joy's  lips  gave 
me  a  shock.  But  with  all  this  I  had  begun 
to  accept  Edna  as  a  perversion,  a  distortion 
of  Joy's  self,  rather  than  as  a  separate  in- 
dividuality, and  I  was  caring  too  much  for 
Joy,  now,  not  to  witness  the  working  of  the 
spell  without  a  constant,  fiery  protest  in  my 
heart 

263 


THE   WHITE   CAT, 

After  our  first  greetings  Leah  disappeared, 
and  we  went  into  the  dining-room.  Edna  sat 
opposite  me  at  the  table  as  I  breakfasted,  her 
elbows  on  the  cloth,  her  chin  on  the  backs  of 
her  clasped  hands,  looking  at  me. 

"Well,"  she  began,  "I've  forgotten  again, 
Chet." 

I  wondered  what  was  coming.  She  seemed 
more  absorbed,  more  introspective  than 
usual,  for  what  of  this  phase  she  had  hereto- 
fore manifested  had  appeared  usually  later 
in  the  day.  She  watched  me,  too,  with  a 
curious  intentness. 

"But  you're  not  so  bad  as  you  have  been," 
I  offered.  "You  know  you  only  lost  a  day, 
this  time." 

"No,  I'm  getting  hold  of  myself,  I  believe. 
The  doctor  is  helping  me,  I'm  sure.  I  used 
to  lose  four  or  five  days  every  week. ' ' 

"I  congratulate  you!"  I  said,  falsely 
enough,  I  confess.  But  I  must  at  any  cost 
placate  her. 

"How  was  I  yesterday,  Chet?" 

"What  d'you  mean?" 
264 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

11  How  did  I  act?  What  did  I  do?  Was  I 
very  different  from  what  I  am  to-day,  for 
instance?  Tell  me  all  about  it!" 

This  staggered  me.  She  had  never  be- 
trayed so  much  curiosity  before;  she  had 
always  taken  her  lapses  in  her  careless, 
thoughtless  way,  without  much  question.  I 
saw  Leah  in  the  kitchen  stop  and  listen, 
her  lips  parted,  showing  her  white  teeth. 

"You  were  very  lovely — as  usual!"  I  said. 

"I'm  glad  you  found  me  so,  Chet.  You've 
never  said  that  before,  you  know!" 

"Well,  I've  thought  so,  often  enough!" 

"Did  you  like  me  any  better  than  you 
usually  do,  then?"  she  insisted,  keeping  her 
eyes  on  mine. 

"Oh,  there  are  some  times  when  I  don't 
quite  approve  of  you,  I  confess." 

"When,  Chet?" 

"When  you  abuse*  the  dogs — or  Leah." 
Leah  disappeared. 

"But  they  abuse  me,  too,  horrid  things!" 
she  complained  peevishly.     "And  I  can't  for 
the  life  of  me  see  why  you're  so  fond  of 
265 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

Leah.  She's  a  great  trial  to  me.  I'm  only 
keeping  her  on,  now,  on  your  account,  and  if 
you  scold  me,  I'll  be  sorry  I  did." 

"Oh,  I'm  not  going  to  scold  you.  You're 
too  charming." 

"As  charming  as  I  was  yesterday?" 

' '  Almost. ' '    I  hated  myself  for  saying  it. 

"What  did  we  do  yesterday?  You  haven't 
told  me  yet." 

"Why,  we  talked,  mostly.  We  sat  up  in 
your  study  all  the  afternoon,  and  in  the  even- 
ing we  played  chess." 

' '  Played  chess  I  I  must  have  played  pretty 
badly!" 

"Oh,  no!  In  fact,  you  gave  me  a  hard 
fight  and  beat  me. ' ' 

"Chess  is  stupid,  though.  I'd  rather  talk. 
What  did  we  talk  about?" 

"Oh,  about  you,  mostly." 

"Did  you  make  love  to  me?" 

"No." 

"Why  not,  if  I  was  so  very  much  nicer 
than  usual?" 

Her  deliberate  misquotation,  a  common 
266 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

enough  feminine  trait,  was  characteristic  of 
Edna's  newly  acquired  mental  agility,  but 
in  addition  I  perceived  that  there  was  some- 
thing behind  even  that.  It  was  something 
new  for  her  to  proceed  so  categorically.  It 
embarrassed  me  not  a  little,  and  yet  I  could 
not  quite  bring  myself  to  lie  to  her  outright, 
even  to  throw  her  off  the  track.  It  was  al- 
most impossible  when  I  looked  her  straight 
in  the  face — Joy's  face — nor,  of  course,  could 
I  reveal  anything  of  what  had  really  hap- 
pened. 

"Oh,"  I  said,  "you're  very  nice  now,  but 
I  'm  not  making  love  to  you,  you  see. ' ' 

She  further  disconcerted  me  by  saying, 
"Why  not?" 

There  was  nothing  to  do  now  but  to  carry 
the  war  into  Africa. 

"Because  Doctor  Copin  seems  to  have  that 
right — or  privilege,"  I  gave  her  boldly,  mak- 
ing a  good  deal  of  it  by.  my  tone. 

"Doctor  Copin  is  very  nice  indeed  to  me; 
indeed,  he's  nicer  than  you  are  to  me,  Chet. 
He  tells  me  things  that  you  won't,  and  he's 
267 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

helping  me  to  get  my  memory  back.  Why 
don 't  you  help  me  ? " 

''How  can  I  help?"  I  asked. 

' '  Tell  me  how  I  was  different  yesterday,  if 
I  was  different.  Was  I  different  toward 
him?" 

"Of  course,  I  don't  know  how  you've  been 
in  the  habit  of  treating  him  before  I  came." 

"Well,  how  did  he  treat  me,  then?" 

"Oh,  you'd  better  ask  him  about  that! 
But,"  I  added,  to  try  her,  "I  think  he's  un- 
doubtedly in  love  with  you. ' ' 

"And  you're  not?  For  shame,  Chet!" 
She  looked  demurely  at  me,  as  if  merely  to 
impugn  my  taste.  "He's  not  nearly  so  nice 
as  you,  Chet,"  she  continued,  "but  he  does 
treat  me  better.  He's  done  a  great  deal  for 
me,  and,  if  I  ever  do  get  well,  it  will  be 
through  his  advice." 

1 '  What  does  he  do  ?  How  does  he  treat  you 
— can  you  tell  me?" 

"Why,  he  hypnotizes  me,  you  know.  I 
told  you  that  before." 

"And  gives  you  suggestions,  I  suppose?" 
268 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean.  I  just  go 
to  sleep,  and  after  a  while  I  wake  up  again. 
He  hasn't  been  able  to  do  it  till  quite  lately, 
and  I  don't  understand  it  very  well,  anyway. 
I  don't  care,  so  long  as  I  recover.  He  says 
I  'm  a  remarkably  interesting  case. ' ' 

"So  you  are,  Edna,  most  assuredly,"  I 
replied.  "You  would  be?  even  if  you  were 
all  right." 

"Thank  you  for  that.  I'll  put  down  one 
good  mark  to  your  credit.  But  tell  me — was 
I  pretty  yesterday,  Chet?"  She  looked  up 
at  me  earnestly  under  her  brows. 

' '  Very  pretty — beautiful ! ' ' 

"Was  I  clever,  too?" 

"Very!" 

"More  than  usual?  More  pretty  and  more 
clever  than  I  am  to-day?" 

Wishing  to  see  what  she  was  driving  at,  I 
risked  a  chance  shot.  ."Yes,"  I  said. 

"Oh,  I  hate  you!"  she  cried,  and  she  got 
up  in  a  pet  and  threw  herself  out  of  the 
room,  scowling. 

I  hurried  after  to  propitiate  her,  but  she 
269 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

was  already  outdoors.  I  overtook  her  in  the 
lane  and  tried  to  take  her  hand  and  get  her 
back,  but  she  flung  away  from  me  and  walked 
on  without  answering  me.  Giving  up  the 
chase,  I  returned  to  the  library,  very 
sorry  to  have  aroused  her  temper.  I  knew 
I  should  have  lied  to  her  for  Joy's  sake, 
for  the  sake  of  peace,  for  the  sake  of  final 
victory. 

I  was  pretty  well  convinced,  by  this  time, 
that  Edna's  eyes  were  opened,  and  she  knew 
what  was  going  on.  She  must  undoubtedly 
have  been  informed  by  the  doctor  the  day 
before.  That  would  account  for  her  behavior 
at  dinner  and  in  the  evening.  For  the  first 
time  in  her  life,  she  had  become  aware  that, 
during  those  lapses  when  she  lost  days  at  a 
time,  some  one  else  lived  for  her,  animating 
the  same  body.  If,  as  I  was  not  too  modest 
to  imagine,  she  cared  for  me,  the  reason  for 
her  anger  was  evident.  Edna  was  now  prob- 
ably definitely  pitted  against  Joy  in  the  con- 
flict that  was  doubtless  already  on.  I  was 
determined,  therefore,  to  bring  the  thing  to 
270 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

a  crisis,  that  we  might,  at  least,  know  where 
we  stood. 

I  had  not  been  alone  fifteen  minutes  when  I 
saw  Leah  approaching  the  house.  She  was 
sobhing,  her  head  bent  down,  her  handker- 
chief to  her  eyes.  I  ran  out  to  meet  her,  my 
heart  in  my  mouth. 

She  stopped  and  told  me,  trembling  con- 
vulsively as  she  spoke,  that  while  on  the  way 
with  a  broom  to  the  cabin,  intending  to  make 
it  fit  for  temporary  occupancy,  Edna  had  met 
her  and  questioned  her.  At  Leah's  attempt 
to  conceal  the  truth,  Edna,  who  was  already 
in  an  angry  mood,  burst  into  a  fury  and 
struck  Leah  across  the  face  with  such  force 
that  her  cheek  was  badly  cut,  inside,  by  her 
teeth.  The  revolver  had  dropped  from 
Leah's  pocket;  Edna  had  picked  it  up,  ac- 
cused Leah  of  stealing  it,  and  had  gone  on 
down  the  lane. 

"Oh!"  Leah  cried  passionately,  "I  don't 
care  how  much  she  hurt  me — she's  not  re- 
sponsible, I'm  sure — but  I'm  afraid  that  now 
she'll  send  me  away  again.  Then  what  will 
271 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

become  of  Miss  Joy?  If  she'll  strike  me, 
she'll  do  worse.  If  we  don't  do  something 
pretty  soon,  it  will  be  too  late!" 

"You  must  keep  out  of  sight  as  much  as 
possible  for  the  rest  of  the  day,"  I  said,  "es- 
pecially as  the  doctor  will  probably  come 
down.  If  we  could  only  prevent  that ! "  At 
the  words,  an  idea  occurred  to  me.  "What 
train  does  he  usually  come  down  on  ? " 

"The  ten  o'clock  from  the  city.  He 
usually  takes  luncheon  here." 

"Then  there's  just  time,  perhaps,  to  catch 
him.  Come  up-stairs.  I'm  going  to  try  to 
see  if  we  can't  find  out  something.  It's  a 
desperate  chance,  but  I'll  take  it.  The  thing 
can't  be  much  worse,  even  if  we're  found 
out." 

We  went  up  into  the  study  and  I  called  up 
the  doctor's  number.  While  we  were  wait- 
ing for  it  I  gave  Leah  her  instructions. 

"Don't    speak    loud,    just    barely    loud 

enough  so  that  he  may  hear  with  difficulty, 

and  let  him  do  most  of  the  talking.    Pitch 

your  voice  as  high  as  you  can.    Ask  him 

272 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

what  train  he's  coming  down  on.  I'll  take 
the  receiver  and  listen,  and  tell  you  what  else 
to  say." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  bell  rang  and  we  were 
connected  with  the  doctor's  office.  I  heard 
him  say,  "Hello!  Is  that  you,  Miss  Field- 
ing?" 

"Say  'yes,'  "  I  whispered.    Leah  did  so. 

"Anything  the  matter?"  he  asked.  Leah 
said  "No." 

"What  did  you  want,  then?"  was  his  next 
question. 

Leah  put  the  question  about  the  train. 

"I'm  going  to  take  the  ten.  I'm  starting 
right  off.  What's  the  matter  with  your 
voice?  It  sounds  different,  and  it's  so  weak 
anyway,  I  can  hardly  hear  it ! " 

I  told  Leah  to  say,  "What?" 

"Oh,  never  mind,"  he  exclaimed  impa- 
tiently. "There  must  be  some  trouble  over 
the  line.  I'd  never  recognize  your  voice  at 
all.  Can  you  hear  me  plainly?" 

"Yes,"  said  Leah. 

"Well,  look  out  for  Castle,"  he  went  on, 
273 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

" Don't  let  him  know  that  you  suspect  any- 
thing, will  you?" 

"No,"  from  Leah,  at  my  prompting. 
}  "He's  trying  to  make  trouble  for  you;  and 
he  will,  if  we  don't  look  out.  He's  in  love 
with  the  other  one,  and  you'd  better  try  and 
see  if  you  can't  get  rid  of  him!  Now, 
Edna!" 

"Yes!"  Leah  again  repeated  my  whis- 
pered word. 

' '  Are  you  listening  ? ' ' 

"Yes." 

"Are  you  listening?"  Why  was  he  re- 
peating  the  question? 

"Yes!" 

"Are  you  listening?" 

At  this,  I  suspected  a  formula  he  might  be 
using  for  some  hypnotic  suggestion.  I  whis- 
pered to  Leah  to  say  "Yes,  yes,"  faintly. 

"Meet  me  at  the  station,  sure.  You  will 
come  alone.  Good-by!" 

I  hung  up  the  receiver,  pretty  sure  that 
he  had  not  suspected  the  deception.    I  went 
down-stairs  again,  and  as,  by  eleven  o'clock 
274 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

Edna  had  not  returned  to  the  house,  I  had  no 
doubt  that  she  had  gone  to  the  station  of  her 
own  volition  to  meet  the  doctor.  This  was 
fortunate,  as,  seeing  her  evidently  in  obedi- 
ence to  his  suggestion,  he  might  be  less  likely 
to  question  her  about  telephoning  and  there- 
by discover  our  ruse.  I  was,  however,  nerv- 
ous at  the  prospect  of  meeting  them.  Leah 
could  scarcely  be  kept  if  the  trick  were  dis- 
covered ;  I  should  have  hard  work  brazening 
it  out  myself. 

At  about  noon  I  started  down  the  north 
lane  to  meet  them,  and  discover  the  state  of 
affairs  in  time  to  let  Leah  know.  Half-way 
to  the  road,  however,  I  happened  to  recall 
what  Uncle  Jerdon  had  told  me  about  seeing 
the  two,  the  day  we  had  broken  down  in  the 
automobile.  I  decided  to  hide  and  see  what  I 
could  discover — in  a  word,  to  spy  upon  them. 
I  was  by  this  time  in  no  mood  to  be  nice 
about  my  choice  of  weapons,  and  I  took  the 
first  one  that  came  to  hand. 

I  had  not  waited  long  before  I  heard  voices 
approaching,  and  I  concealed  myself  behind 
275 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

a  clump  of  bushes  to  watch.  I  was  too  far 
away  to  hear  distinctly,  and,  in  fact,  they  did 
very  little  talking — an  occasional  exclamation 
from  her,  and  the  doctor 's  nasal  replies.  My 
eyes  told  me  more  than  my  ears — enough  to 
prove  that,  however  Edna  regarded  me,  the 
doctor  also  came  in  for  considerable  more  of 
affectionate  demonstration  than  I  had  sus- 
pected, and  either  he  was  not  so  conscien- 
tious as  I  had  been,  or  he  was  actually  in  love 
with  her.  Their  actions  were  those  of  ac- 
knowledged lovers.  Why,  then,  had  she 
flirted  with  me?  Was  her  behavior  now,  per- 
haps, mere  pique  caused  by  the  jealousy  I 
had  aroused  in  the  way  I  had  spoken  of  Joy? 
I  went  in  as  luncheon  was  served.  Edna 
met  me  a  little  coolly,  the  doctor  more  so. 
I  was  decidedly  uncomfortable  at  being  now 
a  guest  in  a  house  where  I  was,  perhaps,  not 
wanted,  but  I  pretended  not  to  notice  any- 
thing amiss,  and  endured  my  position  as  well 
as  I  could.  The  doctor  ignored  my  presence 
completely,  addressing  all  his  dull  witticisms 
to  Edna,  who  laughed  at  them  as  usual,  do< 
276 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

ing  her  best,  now  and  then,  to  drag  me  into 
the  conversation.  She  could  not  keep  any 
one  mood  for  long,  however,  and  before  the 
end  of  the  meal  I  flattered  myself  that  she 
would,  after  all,  prefer  being  with  me  alone ; 
but  the  doctor's  pop-eyes  held  her,  and  his 
interminable  foolery  kept  her  whole  atten- 
tion concentrated  upon  him,  despite  herself. 
Nothing  at  all  was  said  about  the  telephon- 
ing. 

Directly  after  luncheon  was  over  the  two 
went  up-stairs  into  the  study,  without  even 
the  formality  of  an  apology  to  me.  As  Leah 
was  busy  about  her  own  work,  I  strolled  out 
into  the  kitchen  to  see  King.  He  was  wash- 
ing the  dishes,  and  greeted  me  with  his  cus- 
tomary cryptic  grin. 

"Say,  King,"  I  said,  "you  got  a  joss  in 
your  room?" 

His  grin  grew  wider.  "Yep!"  he  ejacu- 
lated, nodding. 

"You  no  Christian,  then?  You  not  go  to 
Sunday-school?" 

"Aw,  no  good  go  to  Sunday-school — I  can 
277 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

talk   Melican    all    light.     Chlistian    joss    no 
good  for  Chinaman.    You  think  so  1 " 

"I  guess  you're  right,"  I  said.  "But  do 
you  worship  your  joss?  You  burn  punk- 
stick  sometime  I  You  trim  him  up  with  pa- 
per flowers,  maybe?" 

He  laughed  to  himself  as  if  it  were  a  great 
joke,  but  kept  on  washing  his  dishes  like  a 
machine.  "You  likee  see  my  joss?"  he  said, 
looking  back  over  his  shoulder.  "Heap  good 
joss — velly  old.  I  bling  him  flom  China." 

"What  d'you  pray  for,  King?" 

"Aw,  sometime  one  thing,  sometime  other 
thing.  I  play  for  good  luck,  allee  same  Chlis- 
tian. You  play,  too?" 

"Oh,  sometimes,"  I  said.  "But  go  on,  tell 
me,  King.  When  do  you  pray?  You  pray 
to-day?" 

He  shook  his  head.  "Aw,  no;  no  play  yet. 
Play  all  time  at  night. ' ' 

"What  did  you  ask  for  last  night,  then? 
Come  on,  tell  me!" 

"Aw,  no,  no!"  He  shook  his  head,  still 
laughing  sillily. 

278 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

" Money,  King?  I'll  bet  you  prayed  for 
money  I" 

"Aw,  no,  no!  I  tell  you.  I  play  for  Miss 
Fielding." 

I  had  stumbled  upon  a  live  wire!  In- 
stantly I  was  aroused,  and  careful  to  say  no 
tactless  word.  What  I  had  already  got  from 
him  was  an  extraordinary  amount  for  a 
Chinese  of  his  caste  to  discover  to  a  white 
man.  So  I  went  witfully  to  lead  him  on  to 
tell  me  more. 

"That's  good,  King;  I  pray  for  Miss  Field- 
ing, too.  I  want  her  to  get  well.  Don't 
you?" 

"Yep.  She  good  lady,  you  bet.  Maybe 
she  get  well,  I  dunno." 

"What  you  think  the  matter  with  her, 
King?  I'm  worried  about  her." 

He  emptied  his  dish-water  out,  and  wiped 
his  hands  first.  Then  hje  stopped  suddenly 
and  said : 

"Miss  Fielding,  she  got  one  no-good  debbil 
on  inside.  You  know?  Sometime  he  heap 
bad,  sometime  he  keep  still.  Plenty  people 
279 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

have  debbil  in  China;  all  time  go  pliest,  he 
dlive  'em  away  easy." 

"The  priest  drives  the  devils  away,  King! 
How  does  he  do  it?" 

'  '  Oh,  flighten  debbil,  tha  's  all.  Stlike  gong, 
burn  fire-clackers,  make  all  time  heap  loud 
noise  and  debbil  go  away  flighten'." 

"I  wish  Miss  Fielding  could  be  cured  as 
easy  as  that,  King!" 

For  the  first  time  during  the  conversation 
his  grin  disappeared.  He  came  up  to  me, 
gesticulating. 

"You  likee  flighten  away  debbil?  Maybe 
I  help  you  sometime?" 

' '  Could  you  do  it  t "    I  laughed. 

"Sure!  Aw!  you  no  think  so?"  He  re- 
turned to  wipe  his  dishes  philosophically.  I 
smiled  at  his  earnestness  and  walked  away. 

I  sat  down  in  the  library  to  wait  till  the 
doctor  came  down.  I  found  that  he  would 
have  to  walk  to  the  station,  as  Uncle  Jerdon 
was  away,  and  I  determined  to  have  another 
talk  with  him,  if  I  could  manage  to  see  him 
alone.  I  had  decided  on  a  coup  d  'etat. 
280 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

In  a  half-hour  they  reappeared,  Edna 
showing  traces  of  heaviness  about  her  eyes, 
as  if  she  had  been  asleep.  The  doctor 
looked  at  his  watch,  and  found  that  he  had 
just  time  to  walk  to  the  train.  I  offered  to 
accompany  him,  and,  though  he  appeared  sur- 
prised, he  assented  with  a  good  grace.  Edna 
did  not  care  to  go  with  us.  It  seemed  to  me 
that  she  not  only  perceived  the  antagonism 
between  the  doctor  and  me,  but  fostered  it 
for  her  own  ends.  It  was  as  if  we  were  fight- 
ing for  her  and  she  had  decided  to  let  the 
best  man  win.  So  we  left  her  and  started 
out. 

I  began  as  soon  as  we  were  round  the  turn 
of  the  lane. 

"Doctor  Copin,"  I  said,  "I  wish  you'd  let 
me  know  exactly  what  Miss  Fielding's  con- 
dition is,  and  what  hopes  you  have  for  her 
recovery. ' ' 

"Did  she  ask  you  to  interrogate  me?"  he 
asked  blandly. 

"In  a  way,  she  did.  But  I  do  so,  never- 
theless, quite  on  my  own  responsibility,  as  a 
281 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

friend  who  is  very  much  interested  in  her 
case." 

' '  Then  I  must  decline  to  answer.  You  are 
aware,  I  suppose,  that  Miss  Fielding  has  had 
her  own  reasons  for  not  wishing  the  matter 
to  be  discussed!" 

"I'm  perfectly  aware  of  that,  but  I  think 
that,  as  I  now  know  all  the  essential  facts,  it 
can't  possibly  matter  to  her.  On  the  other 
hand,  I  can  help,  perhaps." 

"I  didn't  know  you  were  a  specialist  in 
nervous  diseases — or  even  a  psychologist," 
he  answered  in  a  sneering  tone. 

"I  am  neither,  but  I  have  common  sense 
enough  to  perceive  that  her  trouble  is  ap- 
proaching a  crisis.  That,  in  fact,  is  my  sole 
justification  for  staying  on  here." 

"Oh,  if  that's  all,  you  can  go  any  time. 
I'm  quite  able  to  cope  with  the  situation,  I 
assure  you." 

"Doctor   Copin,  I  insist  upon  having  a 
statement  of  what  you  are  doing  in  this  mat- 
ter.   I  speak  as  the  representative  of  Miss 
Fielding— the  real  Miss  Fielding." 
282 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

He  turned  to  me  now  with  his  thin  lips 
drawn  back,  showing  his  even  line  of  false 
teeth,  in  a  cruel,  selfish  smile.  "Insist?"  he 
repeated.  "You  have  hardly  that  right, 
whatever  Miss  Fielding  has  said. ' ' 

"I  certainly  do  have  that  right!"  I  main- 
tained. 

He  stopped  in  his  tracks  and  confronted 
me.  "Why?"  he  demanded. 

The  time  had  come  for  me  to  play  my  bluff. 

"Because  I  am  engaged  to  Miss  Fielding!" 
I  announced  curtly. 

He  scowled  fiercely.  "You  are!"  he  re- 
torted. "Very  well,  then,  I  have  as  good  a 
right  to  refuse  to  answer  you ! ' ' 

It  was  my  turn  to  say,  "Why?  What  do 
you  mean?" 

"Because  I  am  engaged  to  her  myself.  So 
there  you  are!"  With  that  he  walked  off, 
leaving  me  standing,  staring  at  him.  I  was 
literally  bluffed  to  a  standstill.  I  watched 
him  striding  down  the  lane  in  silence.  I  was 
in  a  labyrinth  of  thought.  Then  I  turned 
slowly  back  toward  the  house  and  prepared 
283 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

for  war.  I  should  have  to  get  it  out  of 
Edna,  or  give  up  and  confess  myself  de- 
feated. 

As  I  walked  up  the  lane  I  heard  a  rustling 
in  the  bushes,  and  peering  through  them,  I 
saw  Nokomis  bounding  along,  her  ears  laid 
back,  her  brush  trailing.  She  leaped  down 
the  bank  a  little  way  ahead  of  me  and  stood 
for  a  moment,  pointing  in  the  direction  of 
the  house.  I  called  her,  but  she  only  turned 
her  fine  head  for  a  moment,  and  then  trotted 
on  up  the  lane.  I  followed  after  her  leisurely, 
preparing  for  my  cross-examination  of 
Edna. 

Just  before  I  came  to  the  turn,  I  heard  a 
quick,  sharp  yelp,  and  a  woman's  shrill  cry. 
Then  a  shot  rang  out,  echoing  against  the 
hillside.  I  ran  round  the  bend  at  full  speed. 

There  was  Edna  with  a  pistol  smoking  in 
her  hand.  In  the  path,  in  front  of  her,  Noko- 
mis lay  dead.  Leah,  running  up  from  the 
house,  had  stopped  behind  Edna,  and  stood 
horror-stricken,  afraid  to  move.  It  was  like 
the  scene  of  a  play. 

284 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

I  strode  up.  " What's  happened?"  I  de- 
manded. 

Edna  dropped  the  pistol  to  her  side  and 
looked  down  at  the  collie  angrily. 

"Nokomis  tried  to  bite  me,"  she  said. 
"But  she'll  never  try  it  again!  I  always 
thought  she  was  dangerous." 

"Give  me  that  revolver!"  I  said  sternly. 

She  met  my  look,  shrinking  a  little,  and 
handed  over  the  weapon.  I  put  it  into  my 
pocket.  Leah  retreated  fearfully  to  the 
house. 

First,  I  took  Nokomis'  body  and  carried 
it  to  a  bed  of  ferns  beside  the  path,  patted 
her  head  and  left  her  there  till  she  could  be 
buried.  Then  I  took  Edna's  arm,  gently,  and 
led  her  away.  She  told  me,  a  little  frightened 
now  at  the  impressiveness  of  my  manner,  that 
she  had  met  Nokomis  suddenly,  and  attempt- 
ing to  drive  her  away,  the  collie  had  snapped 
viciously  at  her.  Edna  had  the  revolver 
which  she  had  taken  from  Leah  earlier  in  the 
day,  still  in  her  jacket  pocket,  and,  at  the 
attack,  had  drawn  it  and  fired  immediately. 
285 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

I  had  no  reproaches  for  her — what  was 
there  to  say?  Even  in  speaking,  she  had  re- 
covered from  her  mood,  and  she  became  as 
blithe  and  inconsequent  as  if  nothing  had 
happened — the  only  effect  apparent  upon  her 
was  •  a  whimsical  pettishness  at  my  implied 
rebuke.  She  began  to  attempt  to  cajole  me 
childishly,  patting  my  hand,  looking  saucily 
up  into  my  face  and  pretending  a  sort  of 
arch  depreciation  of  her  temper.  It  was 
evident  that  she  was  not  at  all  sorry  for 
what  she  had  done;  in  fact,  she  seemed  to 
be  secretly  altogether  pleased  at  her  prow- 
ess, though  she  covered  it  with  considerable 
guile. 

All  the  rest  of  the  afternoon  she  was  in  an 
excited  frame  of  mind.  She  treated  me  with 
all  her  former  comradeship,  but  I  could  see 
that  she  was  acting.  It  gave  me  a  new  in- 
sight into  the  rapidity  of  her  development 
effected  by  the  doctor's  information.  She 
was  no  longer  a  child ;  she  was  becoming  com- 
plex, although  still  dominated  by  rapidly 
changing  moods.  A  new  phase  had  indubi- 
286 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

tably  commenced;  it  was  the  sign,  I  feared, 
of  a  growing  supremacy. 

That  evening  she  wheedled  me  with  every 
art  of  the  coquette.  Her  familiarity  seemed 
to  give  the  lie  to  the  doctor 's  statement  about 
their  engagement,  but  it  might  well  be  true 
that  she  was  playing  him  as  audaciously  as 
she  was  playing  me.  I  did  not,  of  course,  ask 
her  about  it.  It  did  not  matter. 

If  I  had  needed  to  exercise  my  self-restraint 
on  that  other  evening  when  she  attempted  to 
provoke  me,  it  was  much  more  necessary 
now,  for  she  had  become  less  differentiated, 
intellectually,  from  Joy;  so  much  so,  at 
least,  as  to  permit  me  at  times  to  give  my 
imagination  play,  and  fancy  her,  for  the  mo- 
ment, the  real  Joy,  my  Joy  in  an  alluring 
guise,  tinctured  with  wild-fire.  The  line  of 
cleavage  now  was  more  along  moral  lines. 
Edna's  mind  was  evolving  at  the  expense  of 
her  ethical  nature.  Her  temptation  was  se- 
ductive and  arrantly  conceived  to  torment 
me ;  I  was  sure  that  it  was  intended  to  shake 
my  allegiance  to  her  rival  self.  It  was  like 
287 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

playing  with  edged  tools  to  be  alone  with  her. 
In  her  intervals  of  repose  she  fell  so  natur- 
ally into  Joy's  poses  that  it  was  disconcert- 
ing. It  was  like  The  Faerie  Queene  over 
again ;  like  an  errant  knight,  I  was  confronted 
by  the  image  of  my  mistress  so  cunningly  en- 
chanted that  I  could  not  tell  till  she  spoke 
that  her  body  was  obsessed  by  another  spirit. 
She  asked  me  much  about  the  day  before, 
and  about  what  she  had  done  and  said.  As 
the  evening  wore  on  and  she  could  not  de- 
feat my  continual  evasions,  she  began  to  grow 
sullen  and  reserved.  Finally,  she  appeared 
to  give  it  up,  and  went  up-stairs  with  a  sar- 
castic emphasis  to  her  "Good  night,  Prig!" 


288 


VI 


Next  morning  I  lay  in  bed  for  some  time 
after  I  awoke,  planning  my  day.  If  it  were 
Joy  who  appeared,  there  were  several  things 
to  be  decided  upon  and  accomplished;  if 
Edna,  a  conflict  was  imminent  which  caused 
me  much  anxiety.  Queerly  enough,  the  pro- 
posal I  would  have  to  make  to  Joy  seemed 
almost  as  if  it  would  be  an  ex  post  facto 
agreement.  I  had  already  announced  my  en- 
gagement to  the  doctor,  but  I  had  not  made 
my  bluff  without  holding  a  pretty  good  hand. 
I  couldn't  doubt,  by  this  time,  how  Joy  felt 
toward  me. 

At  eight  o'clock  I  heard  the  customary 
dialogue — Miss  Fielding's  door  being  still 
left  ajar — but  I  noticed  that  her  voice  was 
quick  and  excited.  Leah  was  called  in  im- 
mediately, and  the  two  women  seemed  to 
289 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

have  more  than  the  usual  amount  of  talk  to- 
gether. 

Next,  I  heard  the  dogs  barking  in  answer 
to  their  names;  but  there  were  only  three 
replies  to  Joy's  calls,  to-day.  Poor  old  Noko 
mis  would  never  greet  her  mistress  again. 
Then  the  door  was  closed.  Joy  evidently 
did  not  wait  to  have  breakfast,  as  usual,  in 
her  room,  for  fifteen  minutes  later  I  heard 
her  going  down-stairs. 

Fearing  that  something  was  wrong,  though 
I  was  sure,  now,  that  it  was  Joy  herself 
whom  I  had  heard,  I  rose  and  dressed  as 
quickly  as  I  could.  I  found  her  in  the  library 
waiting  for  me. 

She  held  a  folded  paper  in  her  hand,  as  she 
sat  by  the  window,  looking  out  listlessly.  I 
bade  her  good  morning;  she  looked  up  with- 
out a  smile  and  silently  handed  me  the  paper. 
Unfolding  it,  I  saw,  written  in  a  round,  child- 
ish, vertical  script,  the  words : 

"I  know  you  now — Cat!" 

"I  found  this  pinned  to  my  pillow  when  I 
woke   up,"  she   said.      "It's   from  Edna." 
290 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

Then  a  faint,  dreamy  smile  softened  her  lips 
as  she  said,  "You  see,  even  to  her,  I  am  the 
White  Cat!" 

"How  d'you  know  it's  from  Edna?" 

"It's  her  handwriting.  She  writes  very 
differently  from  me." 

I  looked  at  it,  wondering.  It  was  the  first 
shot  in  the  battle. 

"You  see,  she  has  found  out.  Her  eyes 
are  opened,"  Joy  said. 

"Yes.  I  was  going  to  tell  you  about  it 
to-day.  I  suspected  it  yesterday,  and  it  has 
proved  true.  It  complicates  things  im- 
mensely." 

"Leah  has  told  me  that  I  struck  her,  too. 
Think  of  it!  It  makes  me  positively  faint. 
"What  horrible  part  of  me  has  come  to  the 
surface  in  Edna?  What  undiscovered  self  is 
it  that  is  torturing  me  so?  It's  a  hideous 
revelation.  It  shows  how  depraved  I  must 
be,  at  heart." 

"It  isn't  you!"  I  declared.  "It's  an- 
other woman,  quite.  It's  only  you  in  the 
sense  that  it  would  be  you  if  you  were  in- 
291 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

toxicated,  or  if  you  were  dreaming,  or  in- 
sane. You  mustn't  think  of  yourself  as  in 
any  way  responsible;" 

"Then  of  course  she's  not,  either V9 

"No  more  than  a  child,  or  an  idiot.  She 
uses  your  body  and  your  mind,  but  she  hasn  't, 
so  to  speak,  the  use  of  your  moral  scruples. 
She's  a  disintegrated  self,  imperfectly  func- 
tioned. All  the  same  we  have,  of  course,  to 
treat  her  as  quite  another  person.  And  the 
time  is  approaching,  I  think,  when  we  '11  have 
to  act.  I  don't  intend  to  spare  her.  We 
must  use  force  if  necessary." 

"How  does  she  know  about  me,  after  so 
long  an  ignorance?"  Joy  inquired. 

I  told  her  what  I  had  heard  at  the  tele- 
phone. She  could  scarcely  credit  my  testi- 
mony. 

"If  the  doctor  is  definitely  leagued  with 
Edna,  what  can  we  do?  He  has  all  his 
science  and  Edna's  active  help.  I'm  lost  if 
he's  really  against  me!  I  can't  be  sure  that 
the  doctor  has  deliberately  played  me  false. 
There  may  be  some  mistake." 
292 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"I  think  I  can  prove  that  to  you,"  I  an- 
swered, "but  I  have  a  great  deal  to  say  to 
you  first." 

I  think  she  knew,  then;  I  think  she  hoped 
to  hear  what  I  was  going  to  say,  for  she  gave 
me  her  hand,  and  smiled  up  at  me  as  she  rose 
to  go  in  to  breakfast.  We  sat  down  with 
Leah  at  the  table. 

I  had  taken  it  for  granted  that  Leah  had 
told  Joy  everything  that  had  happened  the 
day  before,  and  so,  not  wishing  to  grieve  her 
further,  I  took  care  to  say  nothing  about 
Nokomis.  But  the  swelling  on  Leah's  cheek 
could  not  be  so  easily  ignored,  and  several 
times  I  saw  the  tears  come  into  Joy's  eyes  at 
the  sight  of  it. 

While  we  were  there  the  clock  struck  half- 
past  eight.  At  the  sound  Joy's  face  changed 
— an  expression  of  abstraction  came  into  it. 
It  was  as  if  she  were  trying  to  recall  some- 
thing that  eluded  her  memory.  Then  she 
half  rose,  like  a  somnambulist. 

"I  think  I'll  run  up-stairs  and  telephone 
the  doctor,"  she  said,  without  looking  at.  me. 
293 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"Why  should  you?"  I  asked,  much  sur- 
prised, after  the  way  we  had  talked. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  said  vaguely,  looking 
about  the  room.  "Oughtn't  he  to  know  how 
I  treated  Leah?  Perhaps  he  can  prevent 
that  in  some  way. ' ' 

"You'd  better  not,  Joy,"  I  said. 

She  stood  for  a  moment  irresolute,  and 
then,  as  if  urged  by  some  extraneous  impulse 
she  moved  a  little  nearer  the  door. 

"I  just  want  to  find  out  if  he's  coming 
down  to-day,"  she  said  automatically. 

I  jumped  up  and  touched  her  shoulder. 

"Please  don't  telephone  to  Doctor  Copin 
— you  mustn't!"  I  said  with  decision. 

"Oh,"  she  said,  wide-eyed,  coming  to  her- 
self a  little.  "There's  a  reason?" 

"There's  a  good  reason!"  I  exclaimed 
fervently. 

She  moved  back,  as  if  still  opposing  some 
force  that  was  drawing  her  out  of  the  room, 
sat  down  limply,  half  rose  again,  reseated 
herself. 

"Resist!"  I  said  to  her. 
294 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

Leah  looked  on  without  a  word,  breathless, 
her  lips  open. 

Joy  looked  madly  at  me.  "What  is  it, 
Chester!  Tell  me!" 

"It's  only  a  post-hypnotic  suggestion, 
that's  all.  You  must  defeat  it." 

Then  she  literally  shook  herself  free  from 
the  obsession.  "Oh,  why  am  I  tortured  and 
racked  so!"  she  exclaimed.  "Can't  I  be 
permitted  to  be  myself  when  I  am  myself? 
Isn't  it  bad  enough  to  be  robbed  of  myself 
half  the  time  without  his  imposing  his  will 
on  me  now?  Why  is  he  doing  this?" 

"That's  just  what  I  want  to  find  out,"  I 
said.  "The  important  thing  is  not  to  give 
in  to  him.  His  experiments  may  possibly  be 
justified,  but  I  don't  think  so.  We  certainly 
have  good  ground  to  suspect  him.  Have  you 
quite  got  over  your  desire  to  telephone?" 

"Yos— but  it's  queer — I  can  still  think  of 
reasons  why  I  might,  though  of  course  I  agree 
with  you  that  it's  not  best  to.  You  see,  I've 
only  fiven  up  to  you  instead  of  to  him.  I'm 
in  the  dark,  now;  I  seem  to  have  no 
295 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

will  of  my  own.  I  can't  judge,  I  can't  un- 
derstand even  my  own  impulses.  Well,  if 
I'm  blind  you  and  Leah  will  lead  me,  won't 
you?" 

She  reached  over  and  took  Leah's  hand 
affectionately. 

"When  we  finished  breakfast,  Joy  and  I 
went  into  the  library.  There  was  an  old,  gilt- 
framed,  concave  mirror  there,  over  the  fire- 
place, that  gathered  in  and  focused  on  its 
disk  the  whole  room  in  one  condensed, 
shadowy  scene.  Joy  went  up  to  it. 

"Aren't  we  queer  and  strange  in  there?" 
she  said.  "It's  so  dim  and  ghostly;  when  I 
look  up  and  see  any  one  in  it,  it  always  seems 
to  me  like  some  scene  of  Maeterlinck  or  Su- 
dermann. ' ' 

She  walked  over  to  another  glass,  more 
formal  and  more  true,  and  looked  at  herself 
intently. 

"Look  at  the  lines  about  my  eyes!    They 

weren't  there  a  y«ar  ago!    My  whole  face 

has    changed.    ...    I    have    grown    ten 

years    older   this    last    month.    .    .    .    My 

296 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

eyes  themselves  are  different.  .  .  . 
There's  another  wrinkle.  .  .  .  I  wish  my 
eyebrows  were  even.  ...  I  believe  my 
nose  is  one-sided,  too.  .  .  ." 

Her  voice  died  away.  I  looked  up  and  saw 
her  gazing  into  the  mirror  with  a  strange  in- 
tentness.  Her  brow  was  puckered  into  a 
frown.  Suddenly  her  hand  went  to  her  heart 
with  a  gesture  of  horror. 

"Oh!"  she  cried,  and  hid  her  face  in  her 
hands. 

"What  is  it ?"  I  asked. 

"The  doctor !"  she  exclaimed,  shuddering. 

"Tell  me!"  I  insisted. 

Instead,  she  sprang  up  and  began  to  walk 
up  and  down  the  room,  wringing  her  hands. 
"It's  awful;  it's  all  confused  in  my  mind, 
like  a  dream — but  I  seem  to  remember 
things  that  never  happened  at  all.  Oh,  did 
they  ever  happen?"  she  turned  to  demand 
of  me  in  despair. 

"That's  what  I  want  you  to  tell  me." 

She  dropped  into  her  chair  again  and  be- 
gan to  cry — "Oh,  I  can't  tell  you!  I  can't! 
297 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

It  never  happened,  I  'm  sure !    What  does  it 
mean,  Chester  ?" 

"It's  probably  what  happened  here  yes- 
terday— to  Edna — that  you  remember,  Joy. ' ' 

"Oh,  how  dare  he  treat  her  so,  then?  It 
comes  back  to  me  in  scraps  and  shreds  of 
scenes.  Oh,  what  a  cad  he  must  be!  And 
what  a  woman  she  must  be,  to  allow  him — 
oh,  I  can't  stand  it!  Why  did  you  make  me 
remember?  How  can  I  ever  look  any  one 
in  the  face  again?" 

She  threw  herself  into  the  cushions  on  the 
window-seat  and  burst  into  tears.  There 
was  but  one  way  to  restore  her  self-respect, 
and  I  went  over  to  her  and  took  her  hand. 
At  first  she  pulled  it  away,  but  I  persisted. 

"Dear  Joy,"  I  said,  "don't  grieve  so,  for 
it's  all  right.  It  was  Edna,  not  you,  you 
know,  and  Edna's  not  responsible  for  what 
she  does,  I'm  sure.  Don't  cry,  for  I  have 
something  to  say  to  you,  now,  that  you  must 
answer." 

She  looked  at  me  through  her  tears,  and 
waited. 

298 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"I  want  you  to  marry  me,  Joy." 

"Oh,  please  don't!99  she  exclaimed. 
"Marry  you?  How  can  I  listen  to  such  a 
thing,  after  what  has  happened?  Oh,  no, 
no!" 

"It's  partly  on  account  of  that  that  I  ask 
you  now.  I  want  to  help  you,  and  I  can  help 
you  so  much  more  if  we  are  engaged.  I 
want  the  right  to  help  you." 

"Oh,  it's  only  pity  that  makes  you  ask 
me.  It's  only  to  protect  me!  Never, 
never!" 

' ' It  isn 't  that, ' '  I  protested.  "Hove  you, 
Joy — I  have  loved  you  for  a  long  time,  and 
loving  you,  I  want  to  save  you,  not  only  for 
your  sake,  but  for  my  own  as  well.  I  want 
you  for  my  wife,  Joy !  Don't  you  love  me ? ' ' 

Her  tears  had  ceased  and  now  she  looked 
at  me  with  bright  eyes  that  burned  softly. 

"My  dear,"  she  said,  "of  course  I  love 
you!  I  think  I  have  loved  you  ever  since 
that  first  day  you  came  here.  But  for  that 
very  reason  I  must  say  no.  How  could  I 
ever  drag  you  into  this  wretched  trouble  ? ' ' 
299 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"Oh,  I'm  in  it  all  over,  whether  or  no,"  I 
said.  "Do  you  think  I  could  ever  leave  you 
now!  Were  I  only  your  friend,  even,  I'd 
have  to  stay  with  you;  but  I'm  your  lover, 
Joy!  I'm  most  desperately  in  love  with  you. 
And  I  intend  to  have  you,  too!  No  matter 
what  you  say,  no  matter  what  you  do,  you  're 
mine,  and  you  can't  get  away  from  me.  So 
you'd  better  just  say  'yes'  this  moment." 

She  sat  up  and  looked  at  me  tenderly. 
"Don't  speak  of  it  again — not  till  all  this 
problem  is  settled,  at  least.  It's  impossible. 
Do  you  think  I  could  think  of  it  after  what 
has  happened,  after  I've  found  out  what  I 
really  am?  If  I  am  ever  released  from  this 
spell — if  I  can  ever  forget  what  I've  just 
found  out,  it  will  be  time  enough  to  speak  of 
love.  But  not  now,  I  beg  of  you.  I'm  the 
White  Cat!" 

"I've  already  told  the  doctor  that  we're 
engaged,"  I  said. 

"You  told  the  doctor!"  she  exclaimed. 
"How  could  you?" 

I  repeated  our  conversation  in  the  lane. 
300 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

Her  momentary  resentment  at  me  died  away 
at  hearing  the  doctor's  own  announcement. 

"Then  perhaps  Edna  is  in  love  with  him, 
after  all !  That  would  account  for  much,  and 
excuse  everything,  perhaps/'  She  drew  a 
sigh  of  relief  at  the  thought  of  this  pallia- 
tion. 

"I  don't  think  she  is,  but  she  might  be 
willing  to  marry  him  to  get  her  freedom," 
I  offered. 

"But  then,  if  Edna  is  in  love,  I  have  still 
less  right  to  let  you  propose  to  me.  Why, 
just  think  of  it — it's  incredible!  If  they're 
engaged " 

"They're  not  engaged,  I'm  sure." 

"It  makes  no  difference — she  may  care  for 
him  more  than  you  think.  It's  fearful!  I 
can't  talk  about  it!" 

"But  she  can't  marry  him !  We  must  pre- 
vent that !  Think  of  the  horror  of  that  pos- 
sibility!" 

I  had  small  need  to  appeal  to  her  imagina- 
tion. Her  mind  was  already  whirling  with 
the  possibilities  of  such  a  situation.  She 
301 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

stared  at  me,  dazed,  speechless,  her  eyes 
filled  with  terror.  Then  she  collapsed  and 
fell  into  my  arms. 

"Oh,  Chester,  what  shall  I  do?  Take  care 
of  me !  I  'm  so  frightened ! ' ' 

"You  must  listen  to  me,  Joy,"  I  said.  "I 
love  you  so  that  my  heart  will  break  if  you 
don't  consent  and  let  me  help  you.  You 
must  be  my  wife,  and  then  we  can  defy  them 
and  fight  it  out  together." 

She  started  up  with  a  new  thought.  "Oh, 
hasn't  Edna  a  right  to  her  love,  too!  Won't 
it  be  as  bad  for  her,  possibly,  if  I  consent? 
How  can  I  force  her  to  suffer  that!  How 
can  I  bear  to  think  of  your  being  with  her 
while  I'm  wandering,  lost,  eclipsed?  Oh, 
don't  you  see  how  shockingly  impossible  the 
whole  thing  is?  We  can  neither  of  us  dare 
to  love.  We  have  no  right  even  to  think  of 
it!  How  can  you  suggest  it?  It's  unthink- 
able!" 

"But  you  love  me?"  I  asked. 

She  offered  me  her  lips  for  the  first  time, 
and  clung  to  me,  trembling. 
302 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"Then  nothing  is  impossible.  We'll  wait 
a  while,  and  see.  But  at  least,  so  far  as  the 
doctor  is  concerned,  I  can't  afford  to  be 
stultified.  You'll  not  repudiate  my  an- 
nouncement! You'll  admit  it  to  him,  if  he 
asks?  I  must  have  that  weapon  against 
him.'' 

She  turned  it  over  in  her  mind.  "I'll  not 
deny  it,"  she  said  finally,  "but  you  must  not 
consider  it  a  promise.  It's  simply  too 
ghastly  to  think  of!" 

I  had  gained  that  much,  at  any  rate,  and 
though  my  heart  sank  at  the  thought  of  the 
possibilities  our  words  had  pictured,  I  still 
hoped  to  be  inspired  to  some  successful  plan 
for  attack  and  defense.  I  knew  that  Joy 
loved  me — that  was  everything.  It  made  me 
bolder  and  more  confident.  So  I  put  the 
horrors  from  me  and  thought  only  of  our 
love. 

She  turned  suddenly  toward  me  and  said: 
"What  would  you  do  for  me,  Chester?" 

"Anything,  except  give  you  up!" 

"Remember  the  White  Cat!"  she  said, 
303 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

"Would  you  do  what  she  asked  the  Prince 
to  do?" 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

She  spoke  deliberately.  "Conceive,  if  you 
can,  our  being  beaten  in  the  end.  Conceive 
that  Edna  might  marry  the  doctor — and  then 
think  of  me!" 

"I'll  prevent  that!"  I  said,  through  my 
teeth. 

"You  may  not  be  able  to  prevent  it,  except 
in  one  way." 

I  understood.  "If  I  ever  believe  that  that 
is  the  only  way  to  prevent  it — I  promise  to 
help  you." 

"I  may  be  able  to  do  it  alone;  of  course 
I  shall  try.  But  if  I  haven't  the  means,  the 
opportunity,  you  must  promise  to  help  me 
find  them." 

"I  promise!"  I  repeated. 

She  tossed  her  head  back  with  her  old  ges- 
ture. 

Then  I  said:    "Joy,  all  this  is  unneces- 
sary; though  I've  promised.    If  you'll  only 
marry  me  now — if  you'll  even  consent  to  an 
304 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

engagement,  it  will  enable  me  to  defy  the  doc- 
tor and  prevent  his  coming  here." 

"Oh,  I  can  not,  I  can  not!"  she  cried. 
"You  know  why  as  well  as  I!  It's  too  aw- 
ful! I  love  you — that  must  be  enough  for 
the  present."  ? 

She  rose  and  added:  "Let's  go  outdoors 
and  take  a  walk.  Perhaps  the  air  and  the 
sun  will  do  me  good,  and  afterward  we  can 
think  it  over  and  decide  how  to  manage  the 
doctor.  I'll  just  run  up-stairs  and  change 
my  clothes  and  then  we'll  try  the  sun-cure." 

As  she  went  up  to  her  room,  I  walked  out 
into  the  kitchen  to  talk  to  King  while  I 
waited  for  her.  He  was  busy  at  the  stove, 
but  welcomed  me  with  his  usual  meaningless 
grin. 

"Well,  King,"  I  said,  "I  guess  your  joss 
is  pretty  good,  after  all.  Miss  Fielding  is 
better  to-day." 

"H'm!"  He  shook  his  head.  "Debbil 
come  plenty  time  more!" 

"Perhaps  we  can  pray  him  away,"  I  sug- 
gested. 

305 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

He  dropped  his  spoon  and  came  up  and 
took  my  arm. 

"You  likee  come  lookee  my  joss?" 

I  assented,  amused  at  his  insistence,  and 
he  led  me  out  into  the  yard  where,  beside  the 
stable,  he  had  a  little  shed.  It  was  filled  with 
the  odor  of  burning  sandalwood.  In  his 
room,  by  the  upper  end  of  his  cot,  was  his 
porcelain  joss,  a  horrible-faced  deity.  Long 
placards  of  red  paper  containing  Chinese 
writing  were  hung  about,  and  there  were  pa- 
per flowers,  dusty  and  fly-specked,  upon  the 
stand.  At  the  feet  of  the  idol  was  a  bowl  full 
of  ashes  in  which  were  many  joss-sticks. 
Three  were  lighted,  the  others  had  burned 
out.  There  was  also  a  small  lamp,  with  a 
lighted  wick  floating  on  the  nut-oil.  I  in- 
spected it  all  very  seriously. 

King  rummaged  in  his  trunk,  and  soon, 
grinning,  beckoned  to  me.  I  went  over  to 
him  and  saw,  in  the  tray,  a  large,  ferocious- 
looking  mask  such  as  are  used  in  the  Chinese 
theaters  and  at  the  Feasts  of  the  Dead.  Be- 
side it  was  a  pair  of  huge  brass  cymbals  and 
306 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

a  snake-skin  tomtom.  King  held  up  the 
mask. 

'  *  Oh,  you  used  to  be  an  actor,  eh  T '  I  said. 

He  grinned  and  held  the  thing  in  front  of 
his  face.  It  certainly  was  horrible.  He 
took  up  the  cymbals  and  struck  one  clang. 
Then  he  put  them  away. 

"Heap  good  for  debbil.  Dlive  him  away 
quick !"  he  said.  "Maybe  some  time  I  tly 
him !  You  think  so  ? " 

I  laughed,  and  went  back  to  the  library, 
where  Joy  was  already  waiting  for  me. 

She  was  standing  by  the  window-seat,  look- 
ing out,  putting  in  a  hat-pin,  lost  in  thought, 
when  I  entered.  My  footsteps  made  no  noise 
on  the  heavy  rug,  and  I  thoughtlessly 
touched  her  on  the  shoulder  before  she  was 
aware  of  my  approach.  Absorbed  in  her 
trouble,  unstrung,  the  surprise  startled  her 
with  a  sudden  irrational  terror;  she  leaped 
away  as  if  from  the  touch  of  a  snake.  Then, 
seeing  me,  she  dropped  upon  the  window- 
seat,  her  hand  on  her  heart. 

"Oh,  you  frightened  me  so!  You  see  how 
307 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

nervous  I  am.  I  didn't  hear  you.  I'm  a 
goose ! ' ' 

I  took  no  step  toward  her,  but  stood  there 
gazing  at  her.  A  sudden  idea  had  come  to 
me  at  sight  of  her  fear,  and  immediately  a 
plan  was  unrolled  before  me,  a  perfected 
thing,  a  solution  of  the  problem,  perhaps. 
At  my  fixed,  stony  attitude,  however,  she 
took  a  new  alarm  and  cried  out : 

"What  is  it,  Chester?    What  is  it?" 

"Wait  a  moment,"  I  said  quietly,  "let  me 
think  it  out."  My  tone  reassured  her,  but 
she  was  still  agitated  as  she  watched  me 
while  I  turned  it  over  in  my  mind.  Then  I 
took  a  seat  beside  her. 

"It's  a  desperate  chance,  but  it  may 
work." 

"You  have  a  plan?"  she  asked  anxiously. 

"Yes." 

"What  is  it?" 

"I  can't  tell  you.  It  will  be  much  better 
for  you  not  to  know." 

"Oh,  I'm  afraid  not  to  know!  It's  dread- 
ful to  be  conspiring  against  that  poor  girl. 
308 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

It's  like  plotting  a  murder.  I  can't  bear  the 
thought  of  it.  You  must  tell  me." 

"It  will  be  hard  enough  for  me  —  you  could 
not  stand  it,"  I  said.  "You'll  have  to  trust 
me,  for  I  shall  save  you  in  spite  of  yourself. 
But  I  can't  share  this  with  you." 

"You'll  not  injure  her,  Chester?" 

"How  can  I,  when  it  will  be  your  own  face 
that  I  shall  confront?  It  will  be  your  own 
voice  that  I  shall  hear.  I  wonder  if  I  can 
doit!" 

"Oh,  I  must  know  or  I  shan't  consent," 
she  declared.  "What  right  have  we  to  de- 
stroy her,  after  all?  She  has  a  right,  per- 
haps, to  her  life  1  '  ' 

"Joy,"  I  said,  "you  must  think  of  it  as  a 
dream,  as  I  said.  In  our  dreams  we  suffer 
and  enjoy,  but  so  long  as  there  is  no  bridge 
between  that  and  our  waking  state,  it  need 
not  matter  to  us.  What  must  be  done  is  no 
more  than  a  surgical  operation.  It  will  re- 
store you,  I  think,  to  health." 

"But  what  of  her?" 

"She'll  merely  disappear.  She'll  take  her 
309 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

place  on  the  map  again  and  join  the  rest 
of  you/' 

"You  won't  tell  me?" 

"I  can't!" 

She  rose  proudly.  "Then  I  do  not  con- 
sent," she  declared.  "I  can  suffer  still. 
I'll  summon  new  reserves  of  strength  and 
I'll  fight  it  out  as  it  has  begun.  I'll  forswear 
happiness,  love,  peace.  I'll  accept  my  fate 
— until  I  can  stand  it  no  longer.  Then,  I 
have  my  own  remedy  and  I  shall  not  be 
afraid  to  adopt  it.  There's  always  that  way 
out!  No,  I'm  stronger  than  you  think,  and 
it's  quite  settled.  Now  come  outdoors  and 
let's  get  some  fresh  air.  It's  like  a  haunted 
house  in  here." 

I  tried  no  longer  to  persuade  her,  but  I  had 
already  decided  that  I  would  put  my  plan 
through  without  her  consent,  if  necessary. 
It  happened,  however,  that  this  course  was 
not  necessary. 

We  went  out  into  the  sunshine  and  the 
fresh  air  and  the  perfume  of  June  roses.    In 
front  of  the  house  she  stopped  and  called 
310 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

the   collies.     They   came   trooping  joyfully 
about  her. 

"Where's  Nokomisf "  she  asked.  "Hasn't 
Nokomis  come  back  yet?  That's  queer!" 

I  saw,  then,  that  she  had  not  been  told.  It 
was  shocking  to  have  to  inflict  this  new  blow 
upon  her,  after  all  she  had  been  through,  but 
it  could  do  no  good  to  conceal  the  fact  any 
longer.  As  she  turned  to  go  around  to  the 
stable,  I  took  her  hand. 

"Send  the  dogs  back,"  I  said. 

She  did  so,  with  a  question  in  her  eyes.  I 
took  her  arm  and  led  her  down  toward  the 
turn  of  the  lane. 

"Nokomis  will  never  come  back,  Joy,"  I 
said. 

"Why?"  she  exclaimed.  Then  she  saw 
the  answer  in  my  eyes,  and  she  grasped  my 
arm,  as  if  she  were  about  to  fall. 

"Oh,  don't  say — Nokomis  isn't  dead?"  she 
whispered. 

"It  was  my  fault,  Joy;  I  should  have  had 
her  taken  away  out  of  danger.  But  I  was 
too  late." 

311 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

I  took  her  to  the  bed  of  ferns  and  pointed 
to  the  dead  collie  still  lying  there. 

She  ran  to  the  spot  and  looked,  aghast. 
Then,  dropping  to  the  ground,  she  took  No- 
komis'  head  tenderly  and  laid  it  in  her  lap. 

"Oh,  Nokomis,  Nokomis!"  she  mourned, 
her  little  hand  smoothing  the  ruffled  neck  af- 
fectionately. 

I  told  her  how  it  had  happened,  and  she 
gazed  at  me,  dry-eyed,  till  I  had  finished. 
Then  she  put  the  collie's  beautiful  head 
down,  straightened  out  the  body  and  finally 
broke  into  sobs  that  shook  her  whole  body. 
I  let  her  cry  it  out. 

She  looked  up  at  me,  her  face  drawn  and 
tear-stained. 

"Poor  old  Nokomis!"  was  all  she  could 
say. 

I  took  her  hand  and  helped  her  up,  then 
led  her  gently  away,  as  I  had  led  Edna  away 
only  yesterday.  It  was  the  same  hand  I 
took,  but  it  was  so  cold  and  weak!  It  was 
the  same  face  I  saw,  but  it  was  so  shadowed 
with  sadness!  It  was  the  same  voice  I 
312 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

heard,  but  then  it  had  been  proud  and  care- 
less— now  it  was  so  tremulously  stricken! 

"To  think  that  I  should  have  killed  No- 
komis ! ' '  she  said. 

"It  wasn't  you,  dear!" 

"How  do  I  know?  If  I  could  be  sure!" 
was  her  doubting  answer. 

Then  she  wheeled  about  and  faced  me. 
She  put  both  her  hands  on  my  shoulders  and 
clung  desperately  to  me. 

"Chester,"  she  cried,  "take  me,  if  you  will 
— if  you  dare!  I  don't  know  any  more 
what's  right  and  what's  wrong.  The  White 
Cat  is  blind !  I  must  have  you — I  want  you ! 
I  can't  live  without  your  help!  I'll  give  it 
all  up,  now,  and  let  you  act;  for  I  shall  die 
anyway,  if  such  a  thing  as  this  should  hap- 
pen again.  Next  time  it  may  be  Leah — it 
may  be  even  you!  If  you  can  save  me,  I'll 
marry  you.  I  consent  to  the  engagement — 
I'll  say  'yes'  with  all  my  heart,  with  all 
gratitude  and  all  love.  It's  wrong  and  cow- 
ardly, I'm  afraid,  but  you  and  Leah  are  all 
I  have." 

313 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

I  kissed  her  on  the  lips,  and  put  on  her  fin- 
ger the  little  old  seal  ring  I  wore. 

"Then  we  must  be  married,"  I  said. 

She  freed  herself  and  took  a  step  back. 

"Oh,  no!  Not  yet!"  she  said  sadly. 
"No,  not  even  yet!  When  you  have  tried 
your  plan — and  I  give  you  leave,  now — 
when  you  have  succeeded  in  freeing  me — 
then  we  will  be  married.  Oh,  you  must  free 
me  first — I  can't  share  you  with  Edna — you 
must  destroy  her,  before  she  destroys  me!" 

"Very  well,"  I  said.  "I  can't  urge  you 
further,  though  I  am  afraid  there  is  a  great 
risk  in  delay.  I  must  go  up  to  town  first,  and 
I  shall  have  to  leave  you  here,  of  course.  I 
doubt  if  I  could  manage  Edna,  should  she 
appear  to-morrow  while  we're  in  town.  But 
I  shall  return  as  soon  as  possible — to-mor- 
row at  the  latest.  Now  I  must  get  ready  to 
take  the  one  o'clock  train  up." 

As  we  sat  in  the  library  waiting  for  Uncle 
Jerdon,  Joy  took  up  the  crystal  prism  and 
watched  abstractedly  the  rainbow  spot  upon 
the  ceiling. 

314 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

"You're  leaving  for  the  second  time,"  she 
said.  "It's  the  end  of  the  second  quest,  isn't 
it?  I'm  afraid  the  White  Cat  has  no  piece 
of  cloth  fine  enough  to  give  her  Prince, 
though." 

I  pointed  up  at  the  streak  of  prismatic 
color. 

"There's  a  veil  of  beauty  as  wonderful 
as  that  the  king's  son  brought  home.  Surely 
it's  fine  and  subtle  enough  to  pass  through 
the  eye  of  a  cambric  needle ! ' ' 

She  handed  the  crystal  to  me  with  a  tender 
smile. 

"Keep  it,  Son  of  a  King!  And,  if  you 
win  me,  I'll  see  you  clad  in  those  rainbow 
hues  all  my  life  long ! ' ' 

At  one  o'clock  I  was  in  the  train  on  the 
way  to  town,  deliberating  my  plan  and  ar- 
ranging for  the  preparations  I  must  make. 


315 


PART  THIRD 


I  started  back  for  Midmeadows  at  ten 
o'clock  the  next  day.  It  was  a  fine  breezy 
morning  and  the  country-side  was  full  of 
odors.  The  sky  was  an  intense  blue,  abound- 
ing in  great  rolling  white  clouds  which  spot- 
ted it  like  the  continents  and  islands  of  a 
huge  map  upon  which  some  titanic  Napoleon 
was  continually  carving  and  remodeling  new 
realms  and  empires  of  the  firmament. 

I  paid  less  attention  to  them,  however, 
than  I  did  to  the  mental  empire  it  was  now 
my  purpose  to  overthrow.  If  thunder  and 
lightning  could  burst  the  cloud  that  kept  the 
sunshine  from  my  sweetheart's  life,  I  was 
determined  to  conjure  that  storm. 

I  had,  during  my  few  hours  in  town,  con- 
sulted a  medical  friend  upon  Joy's  case,  and 
while  he  gave  no  professional  approval  to 
my  project,  he  had  not  denied  the  possibility 
319 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

of  its  being  effective  in  producing  a  cure. 
Such  conditions  as  Miss  Fielding's  were  by 
no  means  rare,  but  they  had  been  so  little 
studied,  except  phenomenally,  that  there  was 
no  authorized  course  of  treatment  known. 
Each  had  to  be  dealt  with  according  to  its 
especial  characteristics,  and  according  to  cir- 
cumstances. He  had  talked  to  me  a  good 
deal  concerning  "subliminal  selves,"  of  the 
theory  of  "successive  planes  of  conscious- 
ness" and  of  "isolated  personalities,"  end- 
ing with  the  statement  that,  so  far  as  any 
definite  knowledge  of  the  psychology  of 
multiple  or  dissociated  personality  was  con- 
cerned, even  doctors  were  the  merest  laymen. 
Of  its  actual  rationale  they  knew  virtually 
nothing,  though  in  some  cases  the  disinte- 
grated personalities  had  been  synthesized 
into  a  normal  self  by  means  of  hypnotic 
treatment. 

I  had  left  Joy  herself,  yesterday,  and,  in 

view  of  her  accelerated  alternations,  due  to 

the  doctor's  influence,  I  had  every  reason  to 

expect  to  find  Edna  to-day  in  control.    My 

320 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

chief  hope  was  that  she  and  Leah  were  still 
upon  amicable  terms,  and  that  they  would 
be  alone  in  the  house.  But  there  had  been 
time  for  many  things  to  happen,  and  I 
awaited  the  news  with  considerable  anxiety, 
though  braced  for  any  ordeal  that  might 
come — except,  of  course,  what  did  come.  I 
dismissed  the  carriage  at  the  lane  and  walked 
the  rest  of  the  way. 

There  was  no  sign  of  life  outside  the 
house;  I  went  up  to  the  front  door  and 
knocked.  It  was  some  time  before  my  sum- 
mons was  answered,  and  then,  to  my  dismay, 
by  Doctor  Copin.  This  was  worse  than  I 
had  feared. 

"Oh,  how  d'you  do,  Castle!"  he  said, 
making  no  move  to  let  me  in. 

"I'm  down  again,  you  see.  I  believe  Miss 
Fielding  is  expecting  me,"  I  said,  as  coolly 
as  I  could. 

He  stood  with  his  hand  on  the  door,  de- 
fending the  entrance.  "I'm  very  sorry  to 
say  that  Miss  Fielding  is  not  well  to-day,  and 
she  can't  see  you." 

321 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

" Can't  see  me!  Why,  that's  impossible. 
She  knows  perfectly  well  that  I  was  to  re- 
turn to-day!" 

" She's  said  nothing  about  it  to  me,  if  she 
does.  At  any  rate,  she's  in  no  condition  to 
see  anybody,  and  I  must  ask  you  to  leave." 

" Would  you  mind  telling  her  that  I'm 
here  ? "  I  said. 

"I'll  speak  to  her,  if  you  like,  though  I 
don't  particularly  care  to  disturb  her  at 
present.  Wait  a  moment,  and  I'll  see  how 
she  is." 

He  shut  the  door  and,  I  think,  locked  it.  I 
waited  on  the  step,  hoping  for  a  sight  of 
Leah,  and  trying  to  make  up  my  mind  what 
to  do  if  I  were  refused  admittance.  I  might 
attempt  to  enter  by  force,  but,  with  the  doc- 
tor there,  I  could  not  possibly  put  my  project 
into  action.  He  finally  reappeared  with  a 
long  face. 

"Miss  Fielding  begs  to  be  excused,"  he 
announced. 

"It's  most  extraordinary;  I  must  insist  on 
seeing  her ! "  I  cried. 

322 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"You  certainly  don't  wish  to  force  your- 
self in  where  you're  not  wanted!"  he  insin- 
uated. 

"If  I  were  sure  I  wasn't  wanted,  no.  But 
I  don't  believe  you  took  my  message  in  to 
her  at  all." 

"I'll  accept  that  insult,  Mr.  Castle,  and 
we'll  settle  it  at  some  other  time.  Just  now, 
I  must  ask  you  to  leave  immediately.  You 
may  happen  to  recall  what  I  told  you  the  last 
time  we  met.  As  Miss  Fielding's  fiance  it  is 
not  only  my  right  but  my  duty  to  see  that 
you  go." 

"And  do  you  recall  my  own  words  on  that 
occasion?  I  have  as  good  a  right  to  insist 
upon  entering!"  I  maintained. 

"Well,  well,  this  is  no  time  to  discuss  that, 
for  my  presence  is  needed  in  the  house,"  he 
replied.  "As  I  am  engaged  to  Miss  Field- 
ing, No.  2,  if  you  please  to  accept  that  desig- 
nation, and  as  it  is  No.  2  who  is  at  present 
receiving  me,  you'll  perhaps  see  the  force  of 
my  claim." 

It  was  infamous  to  have  to  stand  bicker- 
323 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

ing  with  him,  and,  as  it  could  do  no  good  to 
enact  a  scene,  I  turned  away,  lifted  my  hat 
and  bade  him  "good  morning!"  He  bowed, 
shut  the  green  door,  and  this  time  I  distinctly 
heard  the  key  turn  in  the  lock. 

I  was  for  a  moment  at  a  loss  how  to  pro- 
ceed, but  walked  slowly  down  the  lane.  At 
the  bend  I  looked  back  and  saw  Leah  at  an 
upper  window  gesticulating  to  me.  I 
stopped  and  watched  her. 

From  her  signs  I  gathered  that  she  wished 
to  meet  me,  and,  being  careful  to  make  no 
signal  in  return,  I  passed  out  of  sight  and 
waited.  It  was  fifteen  minutes  before  she 
appeared,  coming  through  the  underbrush, 
having  made  a  detour  from  the  back  of  the 
house  to  escape  observation. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Castle, "  she  said  breathlessly, 
"it's  dreadful!  The  doctor  has  been  down 
here  since  early  in  the  forenoon,  and  he  has 
been  with  Edna  all  the  time,  shut  up  in  the 
library.'7 

"What  are  they  doing?  Could  you  see  or 
hear?" 

324 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"Oh,  what  aren't  they  doing  I"  she  ex- 
claimed, turning  away.  "It's  unbearable. 
I  don't  see  how  you  can  stand  it!" 

"I  can't  stand  it!  I  won't  stand  it!  I'll 
break  down  the  door  if  they  won't  let  me 
in ! "  I  broke  out.  " I'll  kill  him ! " 

Leah  caught  my  hand  and  stopped  me. 
"It's  no  use,"  she  said,  "Edna  herself  won't 
let  you  in,  I'm  afraid.  She's  different  this 
morning.  I  never  saw  her  so  much  under  his 
influence.  Usually  she  jokes  with  him  and 
teases  him  in  all  sorts  of  ways,  but  to-day 
she's  more  quiet  and  determined." 

"Has  she  treated  you  badly?" 

"No — if  it  were  only  that,  I  wouldn't  care. 
It's  something  more  dangerous.  She's 
crafty  and  secret.  It's  sinister.  It  makes 
my  flesh  crawl !"* 

"Do  you  know  how  long  the  doctor  will 
stay?" 

"He's  going  back  this  afternoon,  I  think. 
That's  why  he's  working  so  hard  with  her, 
I  suppose.     She's  like  a  bird  with  a  serpent 
— she's  fascinated  by  him." 
325 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"What  did  he  say  to  her — did  you  hear?" 

"He  has  been  hypnotizing  her.  I  heard 
him  say,  'You  will  be  Edna,  Edna,  Edna!' — 
he  repeated  it  over  and  over. ' ' 

"You  must  go  back  to  the  house,  then,  im- 
mediately. You  mustn't  be  missed  on  any 
account.  Do  your  best  to  placate  her  and 
avoid  trouble.  I'll  watch  in  the  old  cabin 
till  he  goes  past.  As  soon  as  he's  out  of  the 
way,  I'll  come." 

She  was  off  on  the  instant  through  the 
wood  toward  the  back  of  the  house.  I 
walked  down  the  lane  and  along  the  highroad 
a  little  way,  to  the  deserted  cabin.  Here  I 
took  my  post  behind  a  window  and  waited 
patiently. 

A  couple  of  hours  went  by.  It  was  an 
eternity  to  me.  A  hundred  times  I  decided 
to  go  and  break  down  the  door  of  the  house 
and  have  it  out  with  the  doctor.  I  had  a 
couple  of  revolvers  in  my  bag  and  the  temp- 
tation to  shoot  him  on  sight  was  strong. 
When  I  thought  of  what  was  probably  going 
on  in  the  house — of  Joy's  body,  perhaps,  at 
326 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

his  mercy — it  was  all  I  could  do  to  remem- 
ber that  my  intervention  at  this  moment 
would  ruin  all  hopes  of  her  eventual  release 
from  his  power.  I  bore  it  for  her  sake,  with 
my  teeth  gritted,  thinking  mad  thoughts. 

At  last  I  heard  the  rattle  of  wheels  and 
saw  the  carriage  approach.  Uncle  Jerdon 
was  driving;  the  doctor,  smoking  a  cigar,  was 
laughing  complacently.  I  shrank  out  of 
sight  till  they  had  passed.  Then  I  left  the 
cottage  and  ran  up  the  lane. 

Edna  was  sitting  outside  on  the  door-step 
as  I  approached,  but,  on  seeing  me,  she  rose 
and  went  quickly  inside,  shutting  the  door. 
She  was  indeed  different,  if  she  failed  to  wel- 
come me.  My  heart  fell,  but  I  went  up  to  the 
door  and  knocked.  No  answer.  I  knocked 
again,  and,  after  a  long  wait,  Leah  appeared. 

By  her  first  glance  at  me,  and  an  almost 
imperceptible  nod  of  her  head  toward  the 
library  door,  I  knew  that  Edna  was  near  by, 
watching  and  listening.  I  was  not  surprised, 
therefore,  when,  in  answer  to  my  greeting 
and  question,  Leah  replied : 
327 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"Miss  Fielding  is  sorry  that  she  can't  see 
you  to-day.  She's  not  well.  She  says  that 
she  sent  you  that  word  before." 

"Mayn't  I  even  speak  to  her  for  a  mo- 
ment?" I  asked. 

"She  begs  that  you  will  excuse  her,  Mr. 
Castle."  Leah's  eyes  gave  me  another 
sign. 

"Very  well,  then;  tell  her  I'm  much  dis- 
appointed, but  I  won't  trouble  her  again." 
I  added  a  gesture  in  the  direction  of  the  lane 
and  walked  away  without  looking  back.  I 
felt  that  Edna  was  watching  from  the  library 
window.  Leah  closed  the  door. 

I  went  a  little  way  down  the  lane,  search- 
ing my  mind  for  some  means  of  combating 
this  unlooked-for  contretemps.  I  had  dis- 
covered a  possible  way  out  before  Leah  ap- 
peared, a  half -hour  later. 

"Oh,  I'm  afraid  she'll  miss  me  this  time!" 
she  said,  her  eyes  wide  and  frightened.  "I 
took  my  chances,  though,  and  you  must  be 
quick.  What  shall  I  do?" 

"I  am  going  over  to  the  Harbor,"  I  said. 
328 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

"I  shall  be  back,  probably  in  about  an  hour 
and  a  half,  and  I'll  wait  here  for  you.  You 
must  find  some  excuse  for  coming  again. 
Then  I'll  give  you  your  instructions.  If 
anything  happens  that  positively  prevents 
your  coming,  hang  a  towel  out  of  my  win- 
dow. That's  all  now;  go  back!" 

She  flew  back  to  the  house,  and  I  started 
for  the  village,  where  I  knew  there  was  an 
apothecary's  shop.  In  forty  minutes  I  had, 
with  some  difficulty,  procured  what  I  wanted, 
a  bottle  of  chloroform.  But  it  was  two  hours 
before  I  got  back  to  Midmeadows.  Ap- 
proaching the  house,  and  keeping  carefully 
hidden  by  the  trees,  I  saw  that  there  was  no 
signal  at  the  window,  and  knew  that  I  could 
expect  Leah.  I  retired  a  few  yards  beyond 
the  curve  and  waited  for  her. 

It  was  by  this  time  about  half-past  six 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  it  was  still  light 
and  warm,  though  the  shadows  were  long 
about  the  old  house.  I  had  done  a  deal  of 
waiting  that  day,  and  it  had  begun  to  tell  on 
me.  It  was  a  great  relief  when  Leah  ap- 
329 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

peared,  looking  about  anxiously.  I  came  out 
from  hiding. 

"How  goes  it?"  I  asked. 

"All  right,  but  she's  been  restless  and  fret- 
ful. I  shouldn't  have  been  able  to  get  off 
possibly,  if  she  hadn't  decided  to  take  a  walk 
before  supper.  She's  gone  up  over  the  hill. 
What  are  you  going  to  do,  Mr.  Castle?" 

I  handed  her  the  bottle,  and  as  she  caught 
sight  of  the  label  her  hand  shook  so  that  she 
nearly  dropped  it. 

"What  we'll  have  to  do  is  to  put  her  to 
sleep,  so  that  Joy  may  return.  I  don't 
know,  of  course,  whether  it  will  work  or  not, 
but  it's  the  only  way  I  can  think  of.  Have 
the  bottle  ready,  hidden  in  the  library,  and 
wait  till  she  sits  down  to  supper.  Then  go 
in  quickly,  soak  your  handkerchief  with  the 
chloroform,  come  up  behind  her,  and  hold  it 
to  her  face  tightly — with  all  your  strength, 
for  she'll  struggle — till  her  head  drops. 
You  must  act  quickly  and  firmly.  If  she  has 
the  slightest  suspicion  of  anything,  you'll 
fail,  and  we're  lost.  As  soon  as  you've  laid 
330 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

her  on  the  floor,  call  me.    I'll  be  right  out- 
side, ready  to  come  in." 

"But  King?"  she  asked,  trying  hard  to 
.control  her  excitement. 

"If  King  sees  you,  or  attempts  to  inter- 
fere, tell  him  that  I  am  trying  to  drive  out 
Miss  Fielding's  devil.  But  he  won't,  I 
think.  Is  Uncle  Jerdon  there?" 

"No,  he's  gone  after  the  cow — he  won't 
come  into  the  kitchen  till  after  seven  o'clock, 
when  he 's  through  with  his  milking. ' ' 

"Very  well,  then.  Can  you  do  it?  Have 
you  the  nerve  ? ' ' 

"Yes.  I'll  do  anything  to  bring  back  Miss 
Joy!" 

She  held  herself  erect,  her  lips  compressed, 
looking  at  me  bravely,  though  immensely  agi- 
tated. I  knew  that  whatever  the  struggle 
might  cost  her,  I  could  rely  upon  her  to  rise 
,  to  the  situation.  I  sent  her  away  with  a  final 
word  of  encouragement. 

I  waited  some  ten  minutes  more ;  then  cau- 
tiously approached  the  house,  went  close  to 
the  library  window,  and  looked  in. 
331 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

It  was  not  long  before  I  saw  Miss  Fielding 
enter  from  the  hall  door,  take  up  a  paper, 
look  it  over  listlessly,  and  then,  at  the  sound 
of  King's  gong,  go  into  the  dining-room  and 
take  her  seat.  This  was  just  outside  my 
range  of  vision,  but  occasionally,  as  she 
leaned  back,  I  caught  sight  of  her  head. 
Leah  passed  and  repassed  several  times, 
waiting  upon  her.  I  watched  in  an  excited 
suspense. 

I  had  begun  to  fear  that  the  girl  had  lost 
her  courage,  when  I  saw  her  suddenly  dart 
into  the  library,  take  the  bottle  from  behind 
the  books  in  one  of  the  cases,  and  open  it, 
drenching  her  handkerchief.  At  that  very 
moment  Edna  must  have  called;  for  a  mo- 
ment I  saw  her  head,  as  she  turned  round  to 
look  into  the  library.  Then  it  disappeared 
again.  Leah  stole  back  into  the  dining-room, 
with  the  handkerchief  held  behind  her. 

She  stopped  back  of  Edna's  chair.  Then 
her  right  hand  flew  round  with  the  handker- 
chief, and  her  left  covered  it.  There  was  a 
short  hard  struggle,  as  Edna  tried  to  free 
332 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

herself,  but  Leah  held  firm,  crouching  behind 
her  mistress,  tense  and  determined. 

I  waited  for  no  more,  but  ran  to  the  front 
door,  through  the  library  and  into  the  din- 
ing-room. 

Miss  Fielding  sat  huddled  into  her  chair, 
limp,  inert,  her  arms  hanging  at  her  sides. 
Leah  still  stood  behind  her,  staring,  her  eyes 
showing  the  whites  above  her  pupils,  her  lips 
parted.  She  remained  as  if  transfixed  at 
the  sight  of  what  she  had  done. 

I  seized  the  unconscious  form,  and,  taking 
it  up  in  my  arms,  bore  it  into  the  library 
and  laid  it  upon  the  couch  in  the  window. 
Leah  followed,  without  a  word,  still  staring 
stupidly.  I  thrust  her,  then,  into  a  chair, 
fearing  that  she  might  faint. 

Then  I  stooped  over  Miss  Fielding,  call- 
ing, "Joy!  Joy!  Joy!" 


333 


n 


I  called  her  name  involuntarily,  I  suppose, 
yet  there  was  in  my  motive,  too,  a  dim  idea 
that  the  suggestion  might  in  some  way  in- 
fluence her  to  awaken  as  Joy,  rather  than  as 
Edna.  I  did  my  best,  meanwhile,  to  assist 
her  to  revive,  fanning  her  with  a  newspaper 
and  chafing  her  hands. 

Long  before  she  came  to  herself,  however, 
there  began  a  convulsive  struggle  that  was 
one  of  the  most  terrible  things  I  had  to  wit- 
ness in  all  my  experience  with  her.  It  was 
as  if  her  two  selves  were  fighting  for  su- 
premacy, for  the  possession  of  her  body, 
which  was  their  battle-field.  I  could  only 
wait  helplessly  for  that  fierce  struggle  grad- 
ually to  expend  itself  in  tremblings  and  in 
sighs,  while  I  called  her  again  and  again, 
now  with  a  definite  idea  of  hypnotic  sug- 
gestion. The  conflict  seemed  to  go  on  for  a 
334 


THE   WHITE   GAT 

long,  long  time,  though  in  point  of  fact  it 
lasted,  I  think,  only  a  few  minutes.  At  the 
end,  she  drew  a  long,  deep  breath,  relaxed, 
and  opened  her  eyes.  Almost  immediately 
she  was  overcome  by  a  violent  nausea,  and, 
attending  to  her  and  soothing  her,  it  was 
some  time  before  we  knew  with  whom  we  had 
to  deal.  Her  first  words  reassured  me. 

"Chester!"  she  exclaimed,  "you've  come 
back!  I'm  so  glad,  but  I'm  terrified — what 
has  happened?" 

I  kissed  her,  kneeling  on  the  floor  beside 
her,  stroking  her  hand.  "Don't  worry, 
dear,"  I  said,  "it's  all  right  now." 

She  started  up  with  a  glad  look  on  her 
face,  misinterpreting  my  words. 

"Oh,  is  it  finished,  then?  Have  we  won? 
Is  Edna  driven  away  for  ever?" 

I  had  to  tell  her  that  it  was  not  yet  even 
begun,  but  that,  God  willing,  I  should  soon 
be  ready  to  put  my  plan  to  the  test.  She 
was  disheartened  and  discouraged  at  that; 
it  was  as  if  she  had  gone  through  an  unsuc- 
cessful operation,  she  was  so  exhausted  and 
335 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

fearful,  but  in  the  end  I  succeeded  in  reas- 
suring her  somewhat,  and  she  was  restored 
to  calmness  and  courage  to  bear  the  sus- 
pense. As  soon  as  she  felt  better  we  went 
outdoors  for  a  while,  and  the  fresh,  cool  air 
brought  back  her  spirits.  There  I  told  her 
just  what  had  happened,  and  what  we  had 
to  expect.  Then,  as  I  had  eaten  nothing 
since  morning,  I  went  back  with  her  to  the 
dining-room  and  we  had  supper  with  Leah. 

1  'Chester,''  she  said,  "you've  said  enough 
to  make  me  afraid  of  what  you  intend  to  do. 
I  can't  yet  be  sure  that  we  have  the  right  to 
destroy  Edna.  And  I  must  be  surer  that 
Doctor  Copin  has  betrayed  me.  I've  known 
him  too  long  to  let  him  go  without  proving 
it.  I  must  see  him  and  have  a  talk  with  him 
first ;  then,  if  I  am  thoroughly  convinced,  you 
may  go  ahead.  But  I  want  to  know  just 
what  it  is  you  intend  to  do." 

There,  at  least,  I  stood  firm.    "I  hope 

you'll  never  find  out,"  I  said.    "I  intend  to 

cut  out  the  cancer — that's  enough  for  you  to 

know.    But,  as  to  the  doctor,  I'm  positively 

336 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

afraid  to  trust  you  with  him.  And  yet,  it 
would  be  well  to  know  just  what  he's  up  to. 
He  may  come  to-morrow  morning,  too,  which 
will  prevent  my  doing  anything,  whether  it's 
you  or  Edna  who  is  here.  And  I  can't  risk 
the  chance  of  being  interrupted.  He  may 
not  come,  however,  as  he'll  naturally  expect 
you  to  be  here  to-morrow,  unless  Edna's 
making  faster  progress  than  she  has  hereto- 
fore. And  even  if  I  could  put  you  to  sleep 
now,  Uncle  Jerdon's  being  in  the  house  wil] 
prevent  my  acting." 

It  was  here  that  Leah  put  in  the  first  sug- 
gestion that  she  had  volunteered. 

"Miss  Joy,"  she  said,  "I  have  an  idea  how 
you  might  find  out  what  you  want  to  know, 
and  perhaps  the  doctor's  plans  as  well,  if 
you'd  consent  to  do  it.  I  don't  know  whether 
you'll  think  it's  right  or  not — I've  been  try- 
ing to  decide  for  myself,  but  I  can't." 

"Let's  have  it,  at  any  rate,"  I  said. 
"We've  left  right  and  wrong  so  far  behind, 
now,  that  they're  quite  out  of  sight." 

"If  Leah  has  even  thought  of  it  enough 
337 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

to  propose  it,  I'll  take  my  chances  on  its  be- 
ing justifiable,"  Joy  added. 

' l  Here  it  is,  then, ' '  said  Leah.  1 1  You  want 
/to  know  what  the  doctor  is  doing  with  Edna 
and  to  Edna,  don't  you?" 

"That's  it,"  said  Joy. 

"Then  why  not  pretend  to  be  Edna  when 
he  comes?" 

' '  By  Jove ! "  I  cried.     ' '  There 's  an  idea ! ' ' 

"But  I  couldn't  possibly  do  it!"  Joy  ob- 
jected. 

Leah  explained  further.  "Mr.  Castle  and 
I  will  teach  you.  We  have  all  night  before 
us,  and  we'll  have  to  stay  up,  anyway,  to 
make  sure  that  it  is  you  who  meets  the  doc- 
tor. During  that  time  you  can  learn  your 
part.  It  will  be  "hard  work,  but  I  know  you 
can  do  it." 

"It  will  at  1-iast  keep  us  awake,"  Joy 
smiled  at  last. 

"And  then,  early  in  the  morning,  you,  as 
Edna,  can  telephone  to  him  and  ask  him  to 
come  down." 

"He'll  come,"  I  said.  "He'll  be  only  too 
338 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

glad  to  find  that  Edna  has  had  two  days  run- 
ning." 

Joy  began  to  enter  into  the  humor  of  the 
situation.  "I'll  not  have  to  make  up  for  the 
part,  at  least,  shall  II  And  Edna's  cos- 
tumes will  fit  me.  But  do  you  think  I  can 
really  do  it?" 

I  was  convinced  that  she  could.  "When 
you  think  that  he  will  be  predisposed  to  find 
you  Edna,  and  how  little  cause  he  has  to 
suspect  such  impersonation,  and  moreover 
how  much  more  like  you  Edna  is  becoming, 
I  think  that  there's  very  little  risk,"  I  said. 
"The  best  part  of  the  plan  is  that  after  it's 
over  the  (lector  :i  likely  to  go  back  and  he'll 
be  safely  out  of  the  way  for  my  experiment." 

"Oh,  your  experiment!  How  it  terrifies 
me!  What  aK)  svo  doing  to  that  poor  girl? 
What  poa?IJbto  Crime  am  I  consenting  to?" 
Joy  broke  (1  ywn  again. 

Leah  put  her  hand   on  Joy's   arm   and 

looked  at  her.    "You'll  do  it  for  my  sake, 

Miss    Joy?"    she    pleaded.    I    knew    well 

enough  that  she  was  not  urging  her  own  dan- 

339 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

ger,  despite  her  words.  She  was  desirous 
only  of  Joy 's  peace — but  her  words  had  their 
effect. 

"And  for  mine,"  I  saw  fit  to  add.  The 
double  appeal  stilled  Joy's  protest. 

We  began,  therefore,  to  instruct  Joy  in  her 
part,  and  I  think  that  she  learned  more  of 
her  secondary  self  that  night  than  she  had 
known  in  all  the  rest  of  her  life  put  together. 
It  was  not  easy  for  her,  at  first,  to  abandon 
herself  to  the  character,  and  assume  the 
gauclierie  that  was  typical  of  Edna.  It  was 
hardest  of  all  to  do  what,  indeed,  I  was  loath 
to  teach  her,  the  little  coquetries  and  fa- 
miliarities which  I  imagined  Edna  to  be  in 
the  habit  of  lavishing  upon  the  doctor.  But 
there  was  a  humor,  as  well  as  a  pathos,  in 
the  play,  and  occasionally  the  fun  of  it  over- 
threw our  seriousness. 

So  we  went  over  and  over  the  plot  that 
night.  Edna's  languishing  glances,  Edna's 
awkward  poses  and  active  gestures,  Edna's 
quick  speech  and  obvious  sallies,  her  impa- 
tient, pettish  whims,  all  were  rehearsed. 
340 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

Joy,  becoming  gradually  interested  in  doing 
her  best,  threw  herself  into  the  attempt. 
Her  mimicry  of  Edna  was  a  strangely  con- 
fusing sight — it  was  like  one  mirror  reflected 
in  another.  I  took  the  doctor's  part,  going 
through  the  motions  of  hypnotizing  her, 
teaching  her  how  to  resist  while  simulating 
sleep,  how  to  reply,  how  to  awaken  from  the 
trance.  I  prepared  her  for  every  complica- 
tion that  I  could  think  of,  not  forgetting 
Edna's  characteristic  treatment  of  Leah — 
and  I  think  that  this  part  of  her  acting  did 
more  than  anything  else,  through  her  indig- 
nation, to  stimulate  her  to  do  her  best  on  the 
morrow. 

Besides  all  this,  she  was  to  do  whatever 
occurred  to  her  at  the  moment,  taking  her 
cue  from  the  doctor.  She  had,  I  impressed 
upon  her,  always  the  resource  at  hand  of  a 
pretended  fainting  fit,  after  which  she  might 
plausibly  awaken  in  her  real  character  as 
Joy.  In  any  case,  I  surmised  that  her  fail- 
ure to  enact  the  part  consistently  would  be 
attributed  by  him  to  her  primary  self's  par- 
341 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

tial  projection  into  consciousness.  And, 
after  all,  there  were,  of  course,  many  points 
of  resemblance  between  the  two  women,  and 
with  moderate  care,  he  would  never  suspect 
that  she  was  feigning.  It  would  scarcely 
have  been  possible  for  Edna  to  have  taken 
the  character  of  Joy. 

It  was  nearly  dawn  before  we  felt  that 
we  had  gone  far  enough  to  be  willing  to  risk 
her  facility;  and  then,  to  freshen  ourselves 
up,  we  went  outdoors.  The  air  was  cool  and 
invigorating;  it  was  a  beautiful  night  of 
stars  and  cloud.  About  the  house  the  trees 
waved  and  rustled.  The  mass  of  woods 
across  the  garden  was  black  in  shadow.  I 
smelt  mint  mingled  with  violets. 

I  took  her  arm,  but  it  was  she  who  guided 
me  through  the  obscurity,  knowing  every 
inch  of  the  way  through  long  acquaintance. 
The  dogs  awoke  and  growled  as  we  passed 
the  stable,  but  instantly  relapsed  into  silence 
as  if  aware  of  the  presence  of  friends.  A 
horse  whinnied  in  his  stall.  We  climbed  the 
hill,  Joy  feeling  for  the  concavity  of  the  path 
342 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

with  sensitive  feet  and  leading  me  on ;  and 
at  the  top  we  sat  down,  wrapped  a  shawl 
about  our  shoulders  and  waited  for  the  day 
to  break.  We  could  hear  the  dogs  barking 
far  away.  The  second  crowing  of  cocks  sent 
challenges  from  one  distant  farm  to  another ; 
infinitely  remote  a  railway  whistle  sounded. 
After  an  hour  the  twittering  of  birds  began, 
at  first  in  occasional  chirps,  and  finally  in  a 
chorus  of  matutinal  gossip.  The  sky  in  the 
east  grew  pink,  then,  through  red  and  orange 
and  yellow,  to  a  pale  straw  color.  The  limb 
of  the  sun  pushed  through  the  sea,  freed  it- 
self from  the  horizon  and  floated  up  and  up, 
flooding  the  country  with  light. 

We  walked  back  to  the  house,  rejuvenated 
by  the  fresh  air,  and  had  our  baths  and  hot 
coffee  which  Leah  had  ready  for  us.  Joy 
was  full  of  spirit  and  courage.  The  lines 
about  her  eyes  were  softened  and  her  whole 
figure  and  bearing  expressed  determination. 
At  eight  o  'clock  she  said : 

"Well,  let's  ring  up  the  curtain.    I  must 
begin  the  play.    It's  time  to  telephone.    I'm 
343 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

going  to  tell  the  first  lie  I've  told,  I  think,  for 
months.  YouVe  no  idea  how  unnecessary 
it  has  been  down  here.  I'm  afraid  IVe 
almost  forgotten  how  to  be  a  woman." 

She  got  the  doctor,  and  after  a  short  con- 
versation he  promised  to  come  down  to  Mid- 
meadows  on  a  train  that  would  land  him  at 
the  house  at  ten  o'clock.  We  went  over  the 
day's  campaign  at  the  breakfast-table,  and  I 
gave  her  my  last  instructions.  At  nine 
o'clock  Uncle  Jerdon  drove  up,  and  I  got 
into  the  carriage  to  go  to  the  station,  bidding 
her  good-by,  for  his  benefit. 

The  old  man  was  loquacious  as  usual,  but 
offered  nothing  in  regard  to  affairs  at  Mid- 
meadows.  He  commented  upon  the  crops 
and  the  state  of  every  farm  we  passed,  with- 
out ever  touching  upon  Miss  Fielding's  con- 
dition. If  this  were  his  custom  with  every 
one,  no  man  could  be  safer  to  have  about  the 
premises,  but  I  had  an  idea  he  was  more 
communicative  with  the  doctor.  At  any 
rate,  it  had  seemed  best  to  me  to  make  him 
believe  that  I  was  going  up  to  town. 
344 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

I  had  already  prepared  the  plan  by  which 
I  was  to  outwit  them  both.  The  Tip-train 
came  into  the  station  first,  while  the  down- 
train  waited  on  a  siding  for  it  to  pass.  All 
I  had  to  do  was  to  bid  Uncle  Jerdon  good- 
by,  get  into  the  smoking-car,  and,  as  it  pulled 
out,  drop  off  the  step  and  dodge  quickly  be- 
hind a  woodpile  beside  the  track.  Here  I 
waited,  peeping  over  the  top  till  the  down- 
train  had  gone  and  I  saw  Doctor  Copin  get 
into  the  carriage  to  drive  off  with  Uncle  Jer- 
don. Then  I  walked  leisurely  back  to  Mid- 
meadows,  went  into  the  cabin  and  waited 
with  what  patience  I  could. 

I  had  to  stay  from  ten  till  two  o'clock,  be- 
fore I  saw  the  carriage  go  back  with  its  pas- 
senger. That  wait  had  been  long,  but  it  was 
not  so  anxious  a  time  as  I  had  spent  before, 
for  I  knew  that  Joy  would  be  quite  able  to 
cope  with  the  situation.  But  I  was  relieved 
to  see  the  carriage  go  back,  and  left  the  cabin 
the  moment  the  vehicle  was  out  of  sight. 

I  had  gone  only  half-way  up  the  lane  when 
I  saw  Joy  coming  to  meet  me.  She  looked 
345 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

tired  and  pale.  She  ran  to  my  arms  and 
kissed  me. 

"Oh,  he's  infamous!"  she  cried.  "I 
never  would  have  believed  it  of  him!" 

"He  didn't  suspect  you,  then?"  I  asked 
anxiously. 

"Suspect?  No,  he  was  too  busy  with  his 
own  machinations  for  that.  Chester,  if  you 
had  been  there,  I  think  you  would  have  killed 
him!  And  I  acted — how  I  acted!  I  got 
more  and  more  in  a  rage,  and  I  led  him  on 
with  every  bit  of  cunning  I  had  till  I  had 
found  out  his  worst.  Oh,  it  was  vile ! ' ' 

I  tried  to  hide  my  own  rising  fury. 
"What  happened?"  I  demanded. 

"Oh,  I  can't  tell  you!  Let  me  try  to  for- 
get it !  Ee  did  everything  that  we  have  sus- 
pected, and  more !  I  let  him  borrow  money 
of  me — I  permitted  his  familiarities  and  his 
vulgarity  as  long  as  I  could  endure  it — I  lis- 
tened to  all  his  schemes.  Why,  Chester, 
d'you  know,  he  is  trying  to  destroy  me,  and 
make  her  take  my  place  permanently?  He 
hasn't  a  scruple!  He's  after  my  money, 
346 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

and,  worst  of  all,  after  me!    It's  incredible. 
Oh,  if  you  can't  outwit  him,  I'm  lost!" 

"There's  only  one  sure  way,  now,  to  foil 
him,  Joy.  You  must  marry  me  this  after- 
noon!" 

"I  thought  of  that,  too,"  she  said,  "and  I 
think  I'm  ready.  This  forenoon  has  opened 
my  eyes  to  the  danger.  If  you  say  so,  we  '11 
go  over  to  the  Harbor.  Oh,  Chester,  can  you 
really  marry  such  a  mutilated,  enslaved  per- 
son as  I  am?" 

"I  am  going  to  free  you,"  I  said,  still 
holding  her  close. 

"And  Edna — "  she  broke  away  to  look  at 
me  fearfully.  "What  will  you  do  with 
Edna?" 

"To-morrow  there  will,  I  hope,  no  longer 
be  such  a  person." 

"Then  shan't  we  wait  till  to-morrow!" 

"You  forget,"  I  said,  "that,  at  his  first 
opportunity,  it  is  possible  for  him  to  marry 
her!  The  risk  is  too  great!" 

"That  settles  it — come  to  the  house  and 
we'll  get  Leah!" 

347 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

My  hopes  reached  to  the  skies,  then,  and 
I  was  sure  that  I  could  conquer  anything  and 
everything  that  stood  between  me  and  the 
fulfilment  of  her  rescue.  With  the  surren- 
der, she,  too,  gave  herself  up  completely  to 
the  occasion.  We  took  hands  and  raced  up 
the  lane  like  two  children.  In  that  moment 
I  got  a  fresh  glimpse  of  what  sort  of  person 
Joy  really  was,  when  she  was  free.  Edna's 
galumphing  was  not  more  gay  and  aban- 
doned, Edna's  laugh  never  rang  oui  more 
merrily.  When  we  burst  into  the  house  I 
think  that  Leah,  for  a  moment,  thought  we 
had  both  gone  mad. 

We  did  not  even  wait  for  Uncle  Jerdon  to 
return  with  the  carriage.  I  went  out  to  see 
that  my  motor-car  was  in  order,  while  Joy, 
laughing  with  Leah  so  gaily  that  I  could  hear 
them  even  from  the  stable,  prepared  for  the 
trip. 

Joy  threw  up  her  window,  to  call  out: 
"  Chester,  I  want  that  little  chain  Edna  gave 
you !  I  must  have  *  something  old  and  some- 
thing new,  something  borrowed,  something 
348 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

blue'!"  I  knew,  then,  that  the  last  trace  of 
feeling  at  that  incident  had  disappeared. 

She  came  down  all  in  white — hat,  veil, 
gown,  gloves,  stockings,  shoes,  parasol. 
Leah,  too,  was  dressed  for  the  occasion,  mod- 
estly, as  usual;  for,  though  she  could  well 
have  carried  off  a  modish  toilet,  she  always 
shrank  from  being  in  the  least  conspicuous, 
as  if  fearing  to  compromise  Joy  by  appear- 
ing to  assume  a  social  equality.  She  was  in 
a  frock  of  ecru  linen,  just  severe  enough  in 
its  trim  design  to  keep  her  place  with  Joy's 
bewitching  laces  and  flounces  and  chiffon.  I 
myself  made  a  sorry-looking  bridegroom,  I 
fear,  for  I  had  found  something  to  do  under 
the  belly  of  my  machine,  and  the  employment 
did  the  only  costume  I  had  little  good. 

So,  bidding  King  good-by,  we  were  off  with 
enthusiasm.  Even  Leah  had  caught  the  in- 
fection of  our  high  spirits — for  a  moment 
the  tension  had  been  let  down  all  along  the 
line.  Leah  had,  indeed,  much  reason  to  be 
happy.  She  had  implicit  confidence  in  my 
ability  to  frustrate  the  doctor 's  plans,  she 
349 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

saw  herself  now  safe  with  Joy,  she  antici- 
pated for  her  mistress  a  new  beatitude.  Un- 
der the  influence  of  this,  I  noticed  that  she 
lapsed,  for  the  first  time  in  my  experience, 
partly  into  a  negro  dialect.  It  was  the  more 
remarkable  and  significant  because  I  had 
seen  her  under  the  stress  of  fear  and  horror, 
and  neither  had  affected  her  speech.  It 
showed  me  how  rare  perfect  happiness  had 
been  in  her  life,  that  this  glint  of  joy  should 
break  the  bonds  of  her  speech  and  unloose 
the  tongue  of  her  girlhood.  Both  Joy  and  I 
laughed  freely  at  her,  and  she  herself 
laughed  with  us. 

We  raced  madly  for  the  Harbor,  sought 
the  Methodist  minister  there,  went  into  his 
cool  prim  front  parlor,  were  introduced  to 
his  wife — who  had  that  day  enough  to  gossip 
about,  I'll  warrant — and  the  thing  was  done 
in  ten  minutes.  Then  we  piled  happily  into 
the  car  and  pelted  home. 

Joy  looked  at  me  with  new  eyes.  "You've 
done  it,  haven't  you?" 

"You  bet  I  have!" 
350 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

"How  did  you  ever  manage  it!  I  thought 
I  had  refused  you!7' 

"I  don't  understand  it  myself.  It  just 
happened.  It  had  to  he. ' ' 

"You  ought  to  be  a  highwayman!" 

"It's  partly  your  fault,  you  know!" 

"And  I've  known  you  only  a  month! 
How  reckless!  It  must  have  been  that  in- 
corrigible, irresistible,  unexpected,  unkissed 
nick  in  your  chin !  I've  gone  from  new  moon 
to  full,  at  a  bound!  Now  I'm  a  bride-ram- 
pant: I  could  fight  my  way  to  you  through 
eight  miles  of  jungle !  Was  I  pretty,  Leah  I ' ' 
She  turned  and  held  out  her  hand. 

"  'Deed  you  were,  Miss  Joy,  honey,  I  never 
see  you'  beat!" 

How  she  laughed!  "And  you  were  the 
sweetest  bridesmaid,  too!  See  her  eyes, 
Chester,  please  look  round!  Never  mind  if 
we  do  run  into  a  tree,  to-day.  Did  you  ever 
see  such  hidden  depths  of  gold  as  are  be- 
neath her  eyes?  Isn't  that  color  and  outline 
perfect?  There's  no  wildfire  or  heroics 
about  Leah,  but  she's  got  more  brains  than 
351 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

both  of  us  put  together!  And  she's  got  a 
southern  accent  now,  that  you  couldn't  dissi- 
pate with  an  electric  battery.  Leah,  you're 
as  beautiful  as  a  jaguar!  Can't  you  go 
faster,  chauffeur,  dear?  I'd  rather  eat  fly- 
paper than  ride  in  a  slow  automobile !  Say, 
it's  awfully  stimulating  to  get  married,  isn't 
it?  I'm  going  to  do  it  all  the  time,  after 
this." 

I  leaned  over  to  kiss  her,  and  we  nearly 
ran  into  the  depot-wagon  on  its  way  from 
the  train.  We  were  followed  by  two  dozen 
eyes  till  we  were  hidden  by  a  turn  of  the 
road. 

So  her  brain  coined  as  we  sped  along, 
shrieking  with  laughter.  But  Joy's  frolic 
mood  subsided  as  we  approached  Midmead- 
ows.  She  looked  at  me  plaintively  and  said : 

"The  idea  of  the  White  Cat's  being  mar- 
ried before  she's  had  her  head  and  tail  cut 
off!" 

"Oh,  that'll  be  done  before  you  know  it!" 
I  said.  "What  I'm  thinking  is  that  now 
Doctor  Copin  will  never  be  allowed  at  Mid- 
352 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

meadows  again,  if  I  have  to  keep  him  out  by 
force.  With  him  out  of  the  way,  we  can 
manage  the  rest.  But  no  more  of  that  now. 
It's  our  wedding  day!  We  ought  to  have 
told  King  to  bake  a  cake ! ' ' 

We  had  quieted  down  enough  by  supper- 
time  to  talk  the  matter  over  calmly  and  plan 
for  to-morrow.  The  time  had,  queerly 
enough,  more  the  effect  of  parting  than  the 
beginning  of  a  new  and  happy  life.  Joy 
grew  wistful  and  distraite  as  the  evening 
wore  on.  I  would  not  let  her  talk  of  "the 
murder, ' '  as  she  called  it,  and  I  tried  to  keep 
her  mind  from  returning  to  the  mystery  of 
Edna's  presence.  Finally  she  said: 

"Chester,  I'd  like  to  send  her  a  message. 
Just  think,  I've  never  had  any  communica- 
tion with  her!" 

"It  will  do  no  good,"  I  replied. 

"It  will  do  no  harm,"  she  insisted.  "I 
may  never  have  another  chance.  I'm  going 
to  write  a  note  for  you  to  give  her,  if  she 
comes  to-morrow.  Will  you?" 

I  said  that  of  course  I  would,  and  she  sat 
353 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

down  at  her  secretary  and,  after  thinking  a 
few  minutes,  biting  her  pen,  she  wrote  this : 

DEAR  EDNA  : —  What  has  brought  us  together  we 
can  never  know.  But  it  is  terrible  to  me  to  think 
that,  being  so  closely  and  mysteriously  related,  we 
could  not  have  been  friends.  For  all  you  have 
done  to  me  and  mine,  I  forgive  you,  and  somewhere 
and  somehow  I  hope  that  you  will  forgive  me  for 
everything  I  have  done  to  you. 

JOY  FIELDING. 

It  was  the  first  specimen  I  had  happened 
to  see  of  Joy's  handwriting,  and  was,  as  she 
had  said,  quite  different  from  Edna's.  It 
was  bold  and  flowing,  sharply  slanted  and 
graceful,  the  hand  of  a  fast  writer  and  a 
quick  thinker.  I  put  the  note  into  my  pocket 
to  give  to-morrow  to  Edna.  I  should  but 
pass  it  back  to  the  same  hands  that  had  writ- 
ten it,  it  would  be  read  by  the  same  eyes  that 
saw  it  now — but  I  could  guess  with  what 
scorn  and  anger  it  would  be  received. 

Joy  bade  me  good  night  with  a  tremor  in 
her  voice,  gave  me  a  long,  clinging  kiss,  and 
looked  up  into  my  eyes. 
354 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

"I'm  not  really  your  wife  yet,  you  know, 
Chester,"  she  said. 

"  'Come  slowly,  Eden,'  "  I  quoted. 

"And  I  may  never  be — "  The  tears  filled i 
her  eyes. 

"Do  you  think  I  shall  fail,  after  to-day?" 
I  said. 

"I  still  have  my  revolver,  if  you  do.  Ee- 
member  the  White  Cat,  and  your  promise!" 

"That's  a  sad  thought  for  a  wedding- 
night  !  I  'm  going  to  save  you ! ' ' 

"Poor  Edna!"  she  said,  releasing  herself. 
Then,  as  if  she  thought  it  unwifely  to  leave 
me  sorrowful,  she  flashed  a  smile  at  me, 
waved  her  hand,  and  ran  up-stairs. 


355 


m 

I  have  said  so  much  of  my  "plan"  that  it 
is  now  quite  time  to  explain  it,  for  it  was  of 
the  simplest.  Many  of  the  recorded  cases 
of  multiple  personality,  or  rather,  according 
to  a  more  modern  interpretation  of  the  state, 
dissociated  personality,  had  arisen,  I  found, 
from  a  shock,  sometimes  purely  physical, 
sometimes  mental.  It  was  my  idea  that  in 
Miss  Fielding's  case  the  process  might  he 
reversed — that  I  might  inhibit  her  secondary 
self  by  some  violent  excitement.  A  long 
process  of  hypnotic  treatment  might,  I  knew, 
effect  a  cure  more  or  less  stable,  but  the  doc- 
tor's superior  knowledge  and,  heretofore,  his 
superior  advantages,  had  made  me  doubt  of 
succeeding  in  that  way.  To  take  her  to  any 
competent  specialist  was  inexpedient,  for  the 
356 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

reason  that  we  should  meet  with  a  steady  op- 
position from  Edna,  who  could  do  much  to 
make  such  a  course  impossible. 

The  means  I  intended  to  employ  were,  I 
must  confess,  brutal;  I  intended  to  frighten 
Edna  to  within  an  inch  of  her  life — to 
frighten  her,  that  is,  so  that  she  might  be 
afraid  to  reappear.  This  explanation  is  su- 
perficial, but  it  conveys  the  idea ;  what  really 
would  happen,  I  thought,  was  that  Joy  would 
' ' wake  up"  and  resume  permanently  her  nor- 
mal condition.  I  was  not  competent  to  ex- 
plain the  rationale  of  it ;  I  trusted,  in  a  way, 
to  the  mere  reversion  of  the  processes  that 
had  been  described  in  similar  cases  of  disin- 
tegrated personalities. 

Exactly  how  to  accomplish  this  end  I  was 
not  yet  decided,  save  that  I  had  prepared 
myself  with  a  pair  of  revolvers  and  blank 
cartridges ;  I  left  the  actual  operation  to  the 
inspiration  of  the  moment,  taking  advantage 
of  the  circumstances.  I  knew  that  the  men- 
tal shock  must  be  severe,  and  that  the  tension 
should  be  prolonged  almost  to  the  breaking 
357 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

point.  In  some  way  or  other  it  would  come 
to  threatening  her  life.  In  my  mind  it  was 
like  deliberately  breaking  a  badly-set  bone 
that  it  might  heal  again  aright.  So  desper- 
ate a  remedy  I  had  not  wanted  to  describe 
to  Joy,  nor  did  I  ever  expect  to  tell  her,  even 
should  her  cure  be  effected. 

Of  the  cruelty  to  Edna,  I  had  no  thought. 
I  knew  no  other  way  of  accomplishing  what 
I  desired,  and  my  sympathies,  naturally, 
were  entirely  with  Joy.  She  alone,  surely, 
had  a  right  to  exist  in  that  fair  body.  See- 
ing that  I  could  not  settle  the  ethical  con- 
siderations involved,  and  that  they  only 
impaired  my  will,  I  cast  them  aside.  I  offer 
no  other  excuse  for  my  conduct.  It  .seemed 
expedient,  in  fact  the  only  thing  that  would  be 
effectual,  in  ridding  my  wife  of  her  incubus. 
If  it  were  wrong,  well,  I  would  take  the 
blame.  I  have  never  been  able  to  settle  the 
question  in  my  own  mind,  even  yet. 

She  slept  late  the  next  morning.  I  was 
down-stairs  when  she  rang  for  Leah,  and  so 
heard  nothing,  but  it  was.  no  surprise  to  me 
358 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

when,  a  few  minutes  later,  Leah  came  down 
and  said: 

" It's  Edna/' 

The  fight  was  on.  I  was  now  prepared  to 
undertake  (as  it  would  certainly  seem  to  a 
spectator)  to  torture  my  wife  of  a  day  half 
to  death.  I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  my 
own  feelings  as  I  anticipated  the  prospect. 

"Has  she  tried  to  telephone!"  I  asked. 
My  voice,  I  imagine,  was  now  like  that  of  a 
surgeon  at  an  operation  asking  his  assistant 
for  a  knife. 

"No,  "said  Leah. 

"Hurry  up,  then.  You  must  manage  to 
overhear  what  she  says,  if  possible.  I  must 
know  whether  the  doctor's  coming  or  not. 
Have  you  sent  Uncle  Jerdon  away?" 

"He's  harnessing  up  to  go  to  the  Harbor, 
and  he'll  be  gone  all  the  forenoon." 

"Good." 

She  went  into  the  kitchen  and  prepared 

Edna's  breakfast,  while  I  crept  up-stairs  and 

listened  to  hear  in  case  she  telephoned.    As 

soon  as  Leah  went  up  with  the  breakfast  tray, 

359 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

I  went  down  again  and  walked  into  the 
kitchen. 

"King,"  I  said,  looking  square  at  the 
Chinaman,  "to-day  I'm  going  to  drive  the 
devil  out  of  Miss  Fielding.  You  sabbee?" 

He  grinned  very  good-naturedly.  "Yep, 
I  sabbee,"  he  answered,  paring  his  potatoes 
calmly. 

' '  Maybe  I  make  heap  noise.    You  sabbee  ? ' ' 

"Yep,  I  sabbee !"  again. 

"You  no  mind  me,  King?  You  not  be 
frightened?" 

He  laughed  and  said:  "Aw,  no !  I  no  care. 
Maybe  I  come  help.  I  sabbee  debbil  all 
light!" 

"No,  I  won't  need  your  help,  King.  I  can 
do  it  alone,  I  think.  All  I  want,  you  stay 
here,  and  not  be  frightened." 

"Aw,  I  no  flighten'.  What's  a-inatter? 
You  no  think  so?" 

"Well,  you  don't  know  anything  about  it. 
Sabbee  ?  You  must  keep  quiet,  sure. ' ' 

"Oh,  I  sabbee  all  light.  Maybe  somebody 
ask  me,  I  say,  'I  not  know!'  I  sabbee.  I  say, 
360 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

'You  go-to-hell!'  he-he!"  He  laughed  to 
himself.  "You  heap  good  man,  you  all  light, 
sure.  Dlive  away  debbil,  tha's  all.  Wha's 
a -matter?  You  no  sabbee  me?  Aw?"  He 
turned  away  in  scorn  at  my  distrust. 

I  was  pretty  sure  that  I  could  trust  to  his 
imperturbability,  and  returned  to  the  library 
satisfied,  leaving  King  still  chuckling  inanely 
to  himself. 

In  a  moment  Leah  came  down  again  and 
said  hurriedly  to  me : 

"She's  just  telephoned.  She  said  noth- 
ing about  yesterday,  or  that  you  were  here! 
He  must  have  said  he  wasn't  coming  down  to- 
day, or  at  least  not  this  morning,  for  she 
tried  to  tease  him  to  come.  She's  all  dressed 
up — it's  astonishing — I  can't  tell  you!" 
She  left  me  and  immediately  afterward  I 
heard  Edna 's  footsteps  on  the  stairs. 

For  what  reason  she  had  dressed  herself 
so  extravagantly — whether  from  sheer  wilful 
fancy,  or  a  desire  to  tantalize  me  or  to  se- 
duce me  from  my  fondness  of  Joy — I  have 
never  decided.  She  wore  an  evening  gown 
361 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

of  gold  tissue,  sheer  as  gossamer,  fold  on 
fold,  embroidered  with  gold  threads  all  over 
the  low-necked  corsage.  About  her  forehead 
was  a  garland  of  gold  laurel  leaves,  beauti- 
fully modeled  and  tooled,  interlaced  with  a 
slender  string  of  coral  beads.  Her  arms 
were  bare.  On  her  right  breast  was  a  red 
velvet  rose,  she  had  stockings  of  scarlet  silk 
and  golden  slippers.  It  was  a  costume  for  a 
fancy-dress  ball  and  had  indeed  been  origi- 
nally made  for  that  purpose.  To  see  her  ap- 
pear, now,  and  shine  in  the  morning  sunlight 
like  a  butterfly,  was  to  see  something  as  ex- 
traordinary as  it  was  picturesque. 

She  came  to  me  with  all  Joy's  grace,  and 
held  out  her  hand,  laughing. 

"So  you're  here  again  after  all,  Chet,"  she 
said.  "I  thought  I'd  dress  up  for  you. 
You've  never  seen  me  to  advantage.  How; 
do  you  like  it?"  She  turned  slowly  round 
for  my  benefit. 

"You're  an  empress!"  I  exclaimed.    "I 
don't  deserve  this  honor!" 
362 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

She  began  dancing  a  minuet  all  alone, 
speaking  as  she  swirled. 

"Indeed  you  don't!  I  didn't  want  you 
here  yesterday,  really.  But  now  you've  come 
down  again,  you'd  better  stay."  She 
curtsied  demurely.  "But  look  out  for  the 
doc — tor!"  She  was  off  again  in  a  circle. 
"I  suppose  it  was  Joy  who  invited  you !  I'll 
have  to  entertain  Joy's  guest,  I  suppose. 
There!  Now  sit  down  and  talk  to  me." 

What  was  behind  her  whimsical  mood,  and 
why  she  so  willingly  received  me,  I  could  not 
guess.  When  I  had  taken  a  seat  she  tapped 
me  with  her  fan  and  said : 

"You  know  I've  always  liked  you,  Chet, 
but  you  see  the  doctor  thought  it  wasn't  best 
for  me  to  have  you  about.  Eeally,  I  oughtn't 
to  let  you  stay  now.  He'd  be  perfectly 
furious,  you  know.  He  thought  you  had  gone 
up  to  town.  You  must  hide,  if  he  comes." 

"Trust  me  for  that,"  I  said. 

"So  Joy  wants  you  to  come?"  she  con- 
tinued. "I  suppose  you'd  never  come  down 
363 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

just  to  see  me!  You  must  tell  me  about  Joy. 
Is  she  nice?" 

"She's  lovely.  Oh,  you'd  love  her,  Edna. 
It 's  a  pity  you  can 't  know  her.  It  would  save 
so  much  trouble ! ' ' 

"Oh,  are  you  in  love  with  her,  then?" 

"I'm  very  fond  of  her!" 

She  slapped  her  fan  viciously  and  bit  her 
lip.  Then: 

"I'm  sure  you  like  her  much  better  than 
you  do  me,  anyway — don't  you?" 

"I  know  her  better  than  I  do  you,  Edna, 
and  she  has  always  been  nice  to  me." 

"And  haven't  II  Didn't  I  dress  up  for 
you,  sir?" 

"I  have  a  letter  to  you  from  her — would 
you  like  to  read  it?" 

She  held  out  her  hand  for  it  instantly,  and 
I  gave  her  the  note.  She  glanced  it  over, 
then  tore  it  up  spitefully. 

"Cat!"  she  exclaimed.    "If  I  could  only 

see  her,  if  I  could  only  talk  to  her  once!    I'd 

tell  her  what  I  thought  of  her!     Oh,  I'll  give 

her    something    to    forgive!"      She    looked 

364 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

about  her,  as  if  for  something  particularly 
Joy's  upon  which  to  vent  her  anger. 

Just  then,  as  luck  would  have  it,  Leah  en- 
tered the  room  with  a  vase  of  flowers. 

"Get  out  of  here,  you  black  hussy !"  Edna 
cried.  "Don't  you  see  I'm  busy?  Your 
place  is  in  the  kitchen !" 

Leah  turned  and  left  without  a  word. 

"I've  stood  enough  from  that  nigger," 
Edna  said.  "I'm  going  to  get  rid  of  her  this 
very  day." 

"You  said  you'd  keep  her  as  long  as  I 
stayed,"  I  interposed. 

"Oh,  Joy  asked  you  to  plead  for  her,  I 
suppose!  You're  only  here  hoping  to  get  a 
chance  to  see  Joy,  anyway !  How  did  you  get 
in  yesterday,  anyway!  What  happened! 
I'd  forgotten  all  about  that!  What  did  I  do 
in  the  evening!  I  can't  remember.  Were 
you  here  then,  with  Joy!" 

"You  fainted  away  at  the  dinner- 
table " 

1 1  So  you  had  your  evening  with  Joy  all 
right !  Oh,  what  do  you  care  for  me  !  Noth- 
365 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

ing!  You  hate  me,  I  believe!"  The  next 
moment  she  was  crying,  but,  before  I  could 
assuage  her,  she  had  risen  abruptly  and  run 
up-stairs. 

I  passed  quickly  into  the  kitchen  and  spoke 
to  Leah. 

"Has  Uncle  Jerdon  gone?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  keep  out  of  the  way  as  much  as 
possible.  I'm  almost  ready." 

I  went  up  to  my  own  room  and  took  the  re- 
volvers from  my  hand-bag  and  loaded  them 
with  the  blank  cartridges.  Scarcely  had  I 
slipped  the  weapons  into  my  pocket  when 
Edna  burst  into  the  room  with  her  arms  full 
of  dresses.  She  held  out  the  pale  green  silk 
peignoir  in  which  I  had  first  seen  Miss  Field- 
ing. 

"Does  Joy  wear  this?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,  sometimes,"  I  answered. 

"Well,"  she  said,  "she  never  will  fascinate 

you  in  it  again!"     And  with  a  single  violent 

gesture,  she  ripped  it  from  top  to  bottom. 

She  took  up  another  gown  and  tore  that  in 

366 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

two,  also.    She  had  begun  on  a  third  when  I 
went  up  to  her  and  stopped  her  hand. 

"Edna,  you  mustn't!'7 1  commanded. 

She  threw  the  whole  heap  upon  the  floor; 
and  clasped  her  bare  arms  about  my  neck. 
"Oh,  I  hate  her!  I  hate  her!"  she  wept. 
"You  are  in  love  with  her,  Chet,  you  know 
you  are !  What  have  I  done  that  you  should 
hate  me  so?  You  know  how  I  like  you — 
why  don't  you  love  me  a  little?" 

"Aren't  you  engaged  to  the  doctor?"  I 
asked,  letting  her  stay  with  her  face  near 
mine.  It  did  not  seem  wrong — it  was  Joy's 
own  face. 

"Oh,  I  suppose  I  am,  but  what  does  that 
matter?  'Mayn't  I  like  you,  too?  He's  the 
only  friend  I  have.  He's  helping  me !  He's 
trying  to  free  me!  What  are  you  doing? 
Are  you  helping  me,  Chet?" 

It  was  hard  enough  to  answer  her  question. 
What  could  I  say?  Somehow,  even  now,  I 
could  not  lie  to  her  outright — not  while  look- 
ing deep  into  Joy's  own  eyes. 

"If  you  had  shown  any  mercy  to  Joy,  if 
367 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

you  even  desired  to  be  friends  with  her,  I 
might  try  to  save  you,"  I  said.  "But  after 
this,  how  can  IV9 

"Oh,  I'll  be  friends  with  her— I'll  do  any- 
thing if  you'll  only  love  me,  Chet!  Why 
can't  we  both  love  you?  I'll  promise  not  to 
be  jealous;  we'll  share  you.  If  you  marry 
her,  then  you'll  have  me,  too,  and  I'll  have 
you!" 

She  looked  up  at  me  with  wistful  eyes — 
Joy's  eyes — and  Joy's  arms  were  still  about 
me.  Never  had  Joy  clung  to  me  so  closely 
and  tenderly.  It  was  all  I  could  do  to  put  her 
away  and  answer  her  preposterous  sugges- 
tion. 

"But  you're  engaged  to  the  doctor — he 
told  me  so " 

"I'll  break  it  off  with  him — I  won't  have 
anything  more  to  do  with  him — I  '11  telephone 
to  him  now ! ' '  She  even  started  to  go  to  her 
room. 

I  was  in  a  tumult  of  emotion.  How  could 
I  begin  my  work  when  she  acted  in  this  way 
— as  I  had  least  expected?  True,  I  knew 
368 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

that  probably  in  a  moment  her  fickle  mood 
would  change,  but  I  could  not  begin  yet.  I 
held  her  back. 

"You  know,"  I  said,  "that  the  doctor  is 
plotting  to  get  rid  of  Joy  for  ever.  You 
know,  and  I  know,  that  that  is  the  way  he's 
been  trying  to  help  you.  How  can  I  care  for 
you,  when  I  know  that  is  your  purpose?" 
God  knows  I  loathed  myself  for  the  hypoc- 
risy, but  I  was  at  my  wits'  end. 

She  stopped  and  looked  at  me  reproach- 
fully. "Ah,  you  are  in  love  with  her,  then! 
I  thought  so!  She's  everything,  and  I'm 
nothing  to  you!" 

She  flung  away  again  in  a  new  rage  and 
walked  proudly,  scornfully  down-stairs.  I 
followed  her.  Just  before  I  caught  up  with 
her,  I  heard  her  angry  voice  ring  out. 

"Oh,  you  sneak!  Didn't  I  tell  you  to  stay 
in  the  kitchen?  Take  that  for  your  imperti- 
nence, you  wench ! ' ' 

There  was  the  sound  of  a  blow  and  a 
scream.  I  ran  in  and  found  Leah  with  her 
face  bleeding.  Edna,  gorgeous  in  her  silken 
369 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

gown,  stood  lowering  like  a  furious  queen,  a 
heavy  bronze  paper-weight  in  her  hand. 

"You  pack  out  of  this  house  immediately ! " 
she  cried,  her  voice  strident  with  passion. 
"I've  had  enough  of  your  tricks!  I  want 
you  to  know  I'm  mistress  here!" 

Leah  appealed  to  me  with  a  glance.  I 
nodded,  pointing  behind  Edna's  back,  out- 
doors, to  the  old  cabin.  Leah  disappeared, 
weeping.  I  went  up  to  Edna. 

"Do  you  expect  me  to  love  you  when  you 
act  in  this  cruel  way?"  I  asked  in  a  quiet 
tone. 

She  stormed  up  and  down,  striding  like  a 
leopard  in  a  cage,  swishing  this  way  and  that, 
her  fists  firmly  clenched. 

"Oh,  she's  in  league  with  you  and  Joy.  I 
know  all  about  it !  She  spies  on  me — hides 
things  from  me — tells  on  me!  She  and  you 
are  trying  your  best  to  get  rid  of  me — the 
doctor  said  so !  You  are  plotting  to  destroy 
me  right  now!"  she  flashed  out,  turning  to 
me,  her  lips  quivering  with  excitement, 
can  tell!  I  know!  You  may  go,  too,  Mr. 
370 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

Castle,  I'm  through  with  you,  too!    Leave 
this  house,  please!" 

I  tried  to  pacify  her,  thinking  that,  dis- 
traught with  the  violent  moods  she  had  shown 
to-day,  a  reaction  would  soon  come.  She 
was  almost  hysterical,  and  I  waited  for  the 
revulsion  of  feeling,  without  heeding  her 
words.  In  a  moment  it  came.  It  was  as  if 
an  angel  and  a  devil  were  contending  in  her 
for  the  mastery,  but  the  angel  won  again. 

She  sat  down  limply  in  a  chair  that  was 
drawn  up  to  the  secretary,  and  the  tears 
came  to  her  eyes.  I  saw  Leah  go  out  the 
front  door  and  hurry  down  the  lane. 

"Oh,  I'm  so  wretched !"  Edna  complained 
bitterly.  "I  haven't  a  friend — not  even 
Doctor  Copin.  All  he  wants  is  my  money, 
and  all  you  want  is  Joy.  Oh,  Chet,  let  me 
be  your  friend!  Let  me  be  your  friend — 
you  may  stay — I'll  be  good,  sure  I  will!  I'll 
do  anything  if  you'll  only  love  me  and  be 
good  to  me !  I'll  take  Leah  back;  I'll  dismiss 
the  doctor.  Why  was  I  sent  here,  anyway? 
Nobody  wants  me,  nobody  cares  for  me!" 
371 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

She  looked  up  at  me  and  held  out  her 
hand.  It  was  the  stricken  deer  appealing 
for  protection  to  the  hunters.  I  had  never 
seen  her  so  gentle  and  tender.  It  was,  for 
the  moment,  as  if  Joy  herself  were  pleading 
for  her  life. 

As  I  stood  there,  watching  her,  debating 
what  to  do,  her  head  dropped  to  her  left 
hand.  With  her  right  she  had  taken  up  a 
pencil  which  lay  there,  and  was  abstractedly 
making  marks  upon  the  blotter — circles  and 
crosses  and  zigzag  scrawls.  But,  even  as  she 
turned  to  me  again,  her  eyes  softened,  I  saw 
her  right  hand  move  more  regularly  over 
the  paper  blotter.  She  was  writing,  and 
writing  automatically,  without  looking  at 
what  she  was  doing.  A  sudden  idea  came  to 
me  that  the  writing  was  inspired  by  some  sub- 
conscious, subliminal  self  and  I  must  let  it 
have  free  play,  that  I  must  divert  her  thought 
from  that  hand. 

So  I  walked  up  to  her  and  touched  her 
head,  stroking  her  soft,  brown  hair.  "Poor 
372 


THE   .WHITE    CAT 

girl!"  I  said;  "I  wish  I  could  answer  your 
questions;  I  wish  I  might  help  you.  Per- 
haps  we  can  think  out  a  way.  We'll  talk 
it  over  and  see." 

Her  hand  was  still  writing,  as  she  looked 
up  at  me  and  listened. 

"But  you  must  tell  me  all  about  the  doc- 
tor,  and  what  he  is  doing.  Is  he  coming 

down  here  to-day?" 
• 

She  leaned  affectionately  against  my  side, 
her  hand  still  working  unconsciously.  "I 
don't  know,"  she  said.  "He  may  come  on 
the  eleven  o'clock  train,  perhaps." 

This  was  unexpected.  I  had  little  time, 
then,  in  which  to  act.  But  now  her  hand  had 
stopped,  and  I  bent  over  her  shoulder  to  look 
at  the  blotter. 

She  turned  her  face  to  me  again  and  said : 
"Won't  you  please  kiss  me,  Chet?  You've 
never  kissed  me!  I'm  sure  you've  kissed 
Joy!" 

Then,  following  my  glance,  she  saw  the 
writing  for  the  first  time.  "Oh,  how 
373 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

funny!"  she  cried.  "I've  been  writing!  I 
didn't  know  it.  What  is  it,  anyway?" 
Then  she  read  aloud : 

"  'Don't  hesitate!  Cut  off  my  head  and 
my  tail!  Hurry!  White  Cat.' 

"How  absurd!"  she  commented.  "See,  it 
isn't  my  handwriting  at  all!  It  isn't  any- 
thing like  it.  But  it's  like — it's  Joy's!"  she 
burst  out,  and  she  jumped  up,  staring  at  me. 
"What  does  it  mean?" 

I  had  recognized  the  handwriting  at  the 
same  instant,  and  was  as  surprised  as  she. 

"It's  Joy's!"  she  repeated,  her  voice  now 
almost  a  scream.  "Oh,  but  she  is  a  cat!  I 
believe  she's  trying  to  get  rid  of  me.  She 
wants  you  to  kill  me!  Tell  me,  Chet,  what 
does  it  mean?" 

I  didn't  answer,  for  the  shock  of  this  com- 
munication bewildered  me.  It  was  like  the 
voice  of  a  ghost,  urging  me.  It  was  Joy, 
calling  up  from  Edna's  subconsciousness.  I 
was  sure  of  it. 

"It's  Joy!"  she  cried  a  third  time  as  she 
got  the  meaning,  too.  "She's  trying  to  call 
374 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

yon,  through  me!  She  loves  you,  and  you 
love  her.  I  knew  it!  You're  trying  to  mur- 
der me!  But  I'll  not  let  her  have  you!  I'll 
kill  you  first!" 

She  stood  with  her  little  fists  doubled,  shak- 
ing with  fury,  her  nostrils  dilated,  her  cheeks 
gone  white,  her  lips  apart,  showing  the  little 
uneven  line  of  clenched  teeth.  The  strap  of 
her  gown  had  fallen  partly  off,  leaving  one 
smooth,  creamy  shoulder  bare,  the  golden 
wreath  of  laurel  was  tipped  sidewise  in  her 
hair. 

Then,  in  a  quick  whirlwind  of  passion,  she 
snatched  the  silver-handled  poker  by  the  fire- 
place, raised  it,  and  struck  at  me  with  all  her 
strength.  Slight  as  she  was,  and  weak,  or- 
dinarily, her  emotion  gave  her  an  unnatural 
power.  The  blow  grazed  my  cheek,  plowing 
a  deep,  ragged  furrow  through  the  skin.  I 
grabbed  the  weapon  from  her,  and  she  stood 
defiantly  before  me,  blazing  in  all  her  finery. 

The  time  had  at  last  come  to  act. 


375 


I  may  well  say  "act,"  for  it  was  acting 
that  was  now  necessary.  I  smarted  from  her 
blow,  I  saw  in  her  a  vicious,  dangerous  fury, 
with  a  devil  snarling  in  her,  but  I  had  noth- 
ing but  pity  for  her.  How  could  I  be  angry? 
She  was  desperate,  but  it  was  the  frenzy  of 
an  irresponsible  spirit  that  ui«ged  her.  And, 
moreover,  she  stood  in  my  own  bride 's  image, 
beautiful,  splendid,  virile.  She  was,  in  out- 
ward seeming,  the  woman  I  loved  best  in  all 
the  world.  I  had,  I  insist,  nothing  but  the 
tenderest  pity  for  her  whom  I  must  now,  if 
I  had  the  power,  harry,  harass,  torment  and 
destroy.  But  to  accomplish  this  I  had  to  play 
a  part.  I  could  show  no  trace  of  kindness 
or  consideration.  So  I  nerved  myself  and 
simulated  rage  when  never  was  rage  further 
from  my  heart. 

"Oh,  you  would,  would  you!"  I  cried 
376 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

through  my  teeth,  as  villains  do  upon  the 
stage.  "Well,  then,  Miss  Edna,  it's  time  to 
talk  honestly  to  you.  I  am  in  love  with  Joy, 
and  I  do  hate  you  with  all  my  heart!  I 
would  free  Joy  if  I  could,  but  you  and  the 
doctor  are  too  much  for  us.  I  know  what 
she's  had  to  endure  from  him  in  your  own 
person  and  her  own,  and  rather  than  let  her 
go  through  that  outrage  again,  rather  than 
let  his  lips  touch  hers,  whether  you  consent 
or  not,  I'll  kill  you  both.  I  can't  touch  her, 
for  I  love  her,  but  I'm  going  to  kill  you, 
now ! ' ' 

With  that  I  drew  a  revolver  from  my 
pocket  and  took  steady  aim  at  her.  Oh,  I 
gave  her  time !  The  one  thing  I  was  afraid 
of,  then,  was  that  she  would  dare  me  to  shoot. 
Luckily  her  nerve  failed  her. 

She  screamed  and  ran  to  the  door  like  a 
deer.  She  screamed  as  she  dashed  up-stairs, 
tripping  over  her  gown,  calling  wildly  for 
Leah  to  come  and  save  her.  She  screamed 
again  and  again  as,  giving  her  ample  time  to 
escape,  I  followed  after  her,  shooting  once, 
377 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

twice,  thrice,  stumbling  up  after  her,  mut- 
tering histrionic  curses.  There  was  no  doubt 
that  I  had  frightened  her !  But  could  I  keep 
it  up  till  she  was  literally  beside  herself  with 
terror? 

"  Break  the  bone  and  let  it  heal  right 
again !"  I  kept  repeating  to  myself.  But  to 
break  it — ugh !  I  shuddered  and  nerved  my- 
self again. 

She  had  run  into  her  room,  slammed  the 
door  and  locked  it.  I  threw  myself  upon  it 
and  beat  upon  the  panels  with  my  hands. 
Again  she  screamed — the  sound  sickened  me. 
I  cried  out  that  I  would  kill  her,  that  there 
was  no  use  in  resisting,  that  I  would  break 
down  the  door.  I  shouted  hoarsely  enough, 
there  was  no  need  of  pretending,  now. 

She  came  to  the  door  and  wailed. 

1  'Spare  me!"  she  cried.  "Save  me,  Chet! 
You  were  wounded  and  fainting  when  I  took 
you  into  my  house.  Didn't  I  do  everything 
for  you?  How  can  you!  How  can  you! 
What  have  I  done?" 

I  fired  again  to  stop  her.  I  couldn't  stand 
378 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

that  reproach.  Her  screams  broke  out  again. 
I  could  hear  her  overthrowing  tables  and 
piling  them  madly  in  front  of  the  door. 

Then  her  shrieks  stopped  suddenly,  and 
I  heard  her  running  here  and  there  as  if 
searching  for  something.  I  heard  drawers 
pulled  open  and  emptied  upon  the  floor,  I 
heard  chairs  falling.  Then  there  was  an  in- 
stant's lull. 

Next,  a  muffled  shot  rang  out.  A  bullet 
ripped  through  the  panel  of  the  door  and 
buried  itself  in  the  mahogany  wainscoting, 
missing  my  head  by  barely  an  inch.  She  had 
found  her  revolver — I  had  forgotten  about 
that.  The  game  was  getting  serious. 

But  now  it  was  more  necessary  than  ever 
to  finish.  I  went  down  into  the  hall  and 
shouted  to  King.  He  appeared  at  the  din- 
ing-room door,  his  eyes  as  round  as  glass 
marbles,  his  mouth  open. 

"Get  an  ax,  King,  and  bring  it  up  here, 
quick!" 

I  went  up  again  and,  putting  my  pistol 
cautiously  to  the  hole  in  the  panel,  fired  an- 
379 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

other  blank  cartridge.  My  shot  was  imme- 
diately answered  by  her  revolver,  but  the 
bullet  went  wild. 

King  came  blundering  up  the  stairs  with 
the  ax,  showing  a  white  mouthful  of  teeth. 
I  had  never  thought  it  possible  for  him  to 
show  so  much  excitement,  but  he  was  quite 
wild.  I  took  the  ax  and  struck  a  heavy  blow 
at  the  panel,  splitting  it  open.  Had  I  really 
wished  to  break  down  the  door  immediately, 
I  would  have  aimed  at  the  lock.  But  I 
wanted  to  draw  her  fire,  and  to  torture  her 
to  the  limit  of  suspense  and  fear. 

She  screamed  again  as  the  wood  was  ripped 
into  splinters,  and  two  more  shots  were  fired 
in  quick  succession,  only  one  of  them  going 
through  the  door.  She  had  spent  four  car- 
tridges now,  and,  as  she  held  the  last  one,  I 
had  to  act  quickly  so  that  she  would  have  no 
chance  to  reload. 

"You  go  down-stairs,  King,"  I  com- 
manded. "Wait  for  her  when  she  runs  out. 
I'll  chase  her  outdoors.  She  has  only  one 
shot  left,  so  you  needn't  be  afraid  of  her. 
380 


She  was  handsome— terrible.    Page  381 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

I'll  get  that  bullet,  all  right.  Scream  at  her, 
scare  her  to  death  if  you  can,  but  don't  touch 
her.  If  you  do,  by  God,  I  '11  kill  you ! ' ' 

He  stole  noiselessly  down  the  stairs  and 
disappeared.  I  tried  another  panel  with  the 
ax,  but,  as  she  was  clever  enough  not  to  shoot, 
I  reloaded  my  first  pistol,  and,  taking  what 
risk  there  was  without  thought,  I  seized  the 
ax  again  and  with  one  fierce  blow  smashed 
the  lock  to  pieces.  With  the  concussion  the 
door  fell  partly  in.  I  dropped  the  ax,  put 
my  shoulder  to  the  door  and  swept  the  bar- 
ricade inward,  darting  quickly  through  with 
my  pistol  raised. 

She  was  handsome — terrible.  Frightened 
as  she  was,  she  had  control  of  herself  yet, 
and  was  magnificently  defiant,  breathing  in 
quick  gasps  with  her  mouth  open,  her  bosom 
heaving,  as  if  she  were  suffocating.  Her 
embroidered  waist  was  half  torn  off  and  hung 
away  from  her  neck,  revealing  her  brown- 
white  breast,  or  perhaps  she  had  torn  the 
bodice  open  herself  for  air.  Her  golden 
wreath  was  gone.  I  saw  it  on  the  floor, 
381 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

trampled  out  of  shape.  Her  hair  had  fallen 
over  her  shoulders,  but  its  disarray  was 
lovely.  Her  filmy,  sparkling  gown  was  rent 
and  spotted  from  her  falls. 

She  had  taken  refuge  behind  an  overthrown 
table  and  stood  with  her  revolver  ready. 
Over  her  head  was  a  drifting  cloud  of  smoke, 
about  her  a  wild  confusion  of  disordered 
furniture.  A  shaft  of  sunlight  played  upon 
her  disheveled  costume.  In  the  stable,  I 
heard  the  dogs  barking  frantically. 

So  much  I  observed  in  one  flash — the  pic- 
ture will  always  be  with  me  as  distinct  as 
a  photograph — but  I  had  no  time  to  speak, 
or  even  to  think  what  I  should  do  next,  for, 
after  that  momentary  pause,  she  bent  for- 
ward deliberately  and  fired  at  me  point- 
blank. 

I  felt  a  sting  on  my  left  arm  where  her 
bullet  grazed,  but,  without  stopping  to 
find  whether  I  was  hurt  or  not,  I  fired  with 
both  pistols  at  once,  and  went  forward  at 
her.  The  sound  of  the  double  shot  in  the 
closed  room  was  terrific.  Her  eyes,  staring 
382 


THE  WHITE   CAT 

and  fascinated,  kept  on  me  for  an  instant  as  if 
she  were  paralyzed,  then  she  screamed  again 
— her  voice  rivaled  the  pistol  shots — and, 
suddenly  pushing  the  table  with  all  her  might 
against  me,  she  ran  for  the  door.  As  she 
passed,  I  shot  again.  The  din  was  madden- 
ing. 

It  was  not  my  intention  to  finish  with  her 
there,  though,  and  again  I  gave  her  a  chance 
to  escape,  driving  her  before  me.  As  she 
dashed  out  she  brushed  against  a  framed 
Madonna  upon  the  wall  and  it  came  crashing 
down.  She  stumbled  on  the  threshold — I 
thought  she  would  never  get  away — and, 
moaning  pitifully,  she  half  ran,  half  fell 
down  the  stairway. 

It  was  a  dirty  piece  of  business.  I  was 
sickened  by  it.  But,  having  gone  so  far,  I 
had  no  thought  of  stopping  till  I  had  ac- 
complished my  object.  I  gave  her  a  mo- 
ment 's  time,  therefore,  and  then,  leaving  that 
horrid  smoking  chaos  in  her  room,  I  followed 
her. 

She  had  gone  out  the  front  door  and 
383 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

turned  the  corner  of  the  house,  making,  by 
some  fatal  impulse,  for  the  stable.  The  bark- 
ing of  the  collies  had  ceased,  but  as  I  got  to 
the  yard  I  heard  it  recommence  in  a  higher 
and  more  violent  key.  It  seemed  incredible 
to  me  that  she  had  sought  refuge  in  the 
stable,  but  as  I  looked,  I  saw  the  great  door 
rolled  shut.  When  I  came  up  to  it,  King 
came  out  of  his  cabin  room. 

King  came  out;  but  he  was  no  longer  the 
smiling,  unctuous  Celestial  I  had  known.  In 
that  yelping,  screaming  clamor,  I  stopped  to 
look  at  him  in  surprise. 

He  had  fastened  the  mask  upon  his  head 
and  held  the  cymbals  in  one  hand.  With  the 
other  he  dragged  a  package  of  fire-crackers 
six  feet  long,  braided  together  in  quadruple 
rows — there  were  as  many  there  as  in  a  hun- 
dred of  the  common  Fourth-of- July  packages. 
It  was  such  an  equipment  as  the  Chinese  use 
for  their  New  Year's  Day  celebrations. 

Before  I  could  speak  to  him  he  had  thrown 
the  string  into  an  empty  barrel  and  had 
lighted  the  fuse.  Immediately  there  was  an 
33-i 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

uproar  like  a  regiment  of  infantry  firing  at 
will.  As  soon  as  this  was  started,  lie  took 
up  his  cymbals  and  began  capering  about, 
clanging  them.  The  barking  of  the  dogs  rose 
frantically. 

Surely,  if  anything  could  increase  her  ex- 
citement, this  grotesque  accession  would,  and 
I  prepared  for  the  last  scene.  The  uproar 
inside  now  rivaled  King's  racket;  Edna  was* 
screaming  for  help,  and  instantly  it  occurred 
to  me  that  the  dogs,  who  had  always  hated 
her,  might  be  now  upon  her,  and,  if  I  did  not 
act  quickly,  would  tear  her  to  pieces. 

I  tried  the  big  door ;  it  was  held  by  some- 
thing inside.  Smashing  in  a  window,  sash, 
glass  and  all,  with  my  naked  fists,  I  climbed 
in  and  went  through  the  harness-room  to  the 
carriage  shed. 

There  she  stood,  now  disarrayed  to  a 
shocking  state,  her  shining  golden  skirt  rip- 
ped half  off,  her  bosom  bare,  her  hair  stream- 
ing. She  was  driven  into  a  corner  and  was 
held  there  at  bay  by  three  snapping,  yelping 
dogs.  She  had  caught  up  a  carriage  whip 
385 


THE  WHITE   CAT 

and  was  slashing  away  so  savagely  that  the 
collies  dared  not  close  with  her,  hut  I  could 
see  that  it  was  only  a  question  of  a  few  min- 
utes before  she  would  collapse. 

It  was  my  Joy  in  face  and  form,  remem- 
ber !  It  was  her  face  that  was  distorted  with 
terror,  her  form  that  was  draped  in  glittering 
rags,  it  was  her  voice  that  rose,  shriek  on 
shriek,  above  the  din,  till  my  blood  ran  cold. 
It  was  her  voice  that  screamed  to  me  for 
help  before  she  was  torn  to  pieces.  Its  ter- 
ror will  be  with  me  always. 

' l  Oh,  help  me !    Help  me ! "  she  cried. 

But  I  steeled  myself  for  the  coup  de  grace. 
" Break  the  bone,"  I  muttered,  "and  let  it 
heal  again !" 

So  I  staggered  to  the  great  door,  slipped 
the  hasp  and  let  in  King,  prancing,  beating 
his  cymbals,  droning  some  savage  chant. 
The  sun  shone  full  upon  him,  glinted  on  the 
brass  cymbals  and  illuminated  the  red  and 
white  and  black  of  his  atrocious  mask.  He 
danced  up  to  her,  nearer  and  nearer.  I 
watched  her,  spellbound. 


THE   WHITE    CAT 

Then,  as  I  looked,  I  saw  her  face  change. 
Her  whip  hand  dropped,  her  staring  eyes 
closed.  She  clutched  at  her  naked  breast, 
tottered  and  fell  headlong,  striking  her  fore- 
head against  a  carriage  wheel  as  she  went 
down  like  a  golden  wave  dashing  on  the  shore. 
I  sprang  to  catch  her,  just  too  late.  But  the 
next  instant  I  was  down  on  the  floor  beside 
her,  beating  the  collies  back,  protecting  her 
from  their  teeth  by  my  own  body.  Even  as 
I  did  so  they  drew  off,  stopped  their  fierce 
snarling  and  lay  down,  panting,  to  watch  me 
quietly.  How  my  hopes  rose  at  this!  How 
eagerly  I  waited  for  the  prostrate  form  to 
revive.  Outside,  the  last  of  the  fire-crackers 
popped  at  intervals  in  the  smoking  barrel. 

"Get  some  water  1"  I  cried  to  King. 

He  threw  off  his  mask,  and  dropped  his 
cymbals  with  a  clanging  clash  and  was  off 
through  the  big  door. 

The  next  moment  I  looked  up  from  the 
pale  scarred  face  on  the  floor,  to  see  Doctor 
Copin  standing  at  the  entrance.     Leah,  wide- 
eyed,  staring,  was  behind  him. 
387 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

"What  in  hell's  the  matter?"  he  demanded, 
and  he  looked  in  astonishment  at  the  scene, 
at  the  flaccid  body  in  its  magnificent  disarray, 
at  me  holding  her  passionately  in  my  arms. 

I  watched  her  face  for  the  first  sign  of  life, 
and  did  not  answer  him.  His  presence  mat- 
tered little,  now,  in  my  agonized  suspense. 

"For  God's  sake,  Castle,  what  does  this 
mean?  Are  you  all  mad!  What  has  hap- 
pened? What  the  devil  are  you  doing  here, 
anyway?  Let  me  see  to  Miss  Fielding, 
please." 

I  attempted  to  hold  him  off  with  one  hand, 
but  he  seized  me  roughly  before  I  was  able 
to  resist,  and  threw  me  to  one  side.  He 
dropped  to  his  knees,  looked  at  the  face  and 
felt  for  the  pulse.  I  took  my  revolver  from 
my  pocket  and  pointed  it  at  him. 

"You  take  your  hand  off  her,  or  I'll  make 
you!"  I  cried. 

Quick  as  a  flash  he  turned  and  looked  at  me 
bravely.  "Shoot  if  you  dare!"  he  said. 
"This  is  my  day,  and  this  is  my  Miss  Field- 
388 


THE   WHITE   CAT 

ing.  I  take  no  orders  from  you,  sir.  It's 
my  duty  as  a  physician  to  revive  her.  She'll 
send  you  packing  herself,  when  she  comes 
to." 

I  was,  after  all,  so  fearful  of  her  condition 
by  this  time,  that  I  was  glad  to  take  advan- 
tage of  his  skill.  It  would  soon  be  settled 
one  way  or  the  other,  at  any  rate.  So  I  said : 

"All  right,  then,  if  she  asks  me  to  go,  I 
will.  But  we'll  wait  and  see." 

And  so  we  stood,  facing  each  other,  for  a 
tense  moment,  then  turned  to  her  again. 
King  came  running  in  with  a  basin  of  water. 
Leah  took  it,  stooped  down  and  began  to 
sprinkle  the  pale  face. 

At  that  moment  I  saw  Minnehaha  look  up, 
and  crawl,  whimpering,  to  her  mistress' 
side.  Chevalier  and  John  0 'Groat  followed 
her.  Joy's  eyes  opened.  I  sprang  to  lift 
her  up. 

"Edna!"  the  doctor  cried. 

"Joy!"  I  called,  myself . 

Life  came  flooding  into  her  face,  and  I 
389 


THE    WHITE    CAT 

knew  intuitively  that  it  was  Joy — Joy  illu- 
mined, now,  in  some  secret  way,  by  the  know- 
ledge of  our  victory. 

"  Chester !"  She  smiled  wanly  up  at  me. 
"Chester,  send  him  away!  I  want  to  be 
alone  with  you!  I  have  something  to  tell 
you!" 

"Miss  Fielding!"  the  doctor  exclaimed, 
"I  must  see  you  a  moment  first." 

She  turned  to  him  and  a  wave  of  crimson 
swept  over  her  cheek. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  doctor,  I'm  no  longer 
Miss  Fielding.  I'm  Mrs.  Castle,  and  I  beg 
you  to  leave  immediately!" 

Then,  still  holding  my  hand  close  in  hers, 
she  looked  up  at  Leah  and  drew  her  down 
beside  us. 

"Oh,  Leah,  dear,  we've  won!  We've 
won!" 


THE  END 


A  FEW  OF 

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NEW,  CLEVER,  ENTERTAINING. 

GRET :    The  Story  of  a  Pagan.    By  Beatrice  Mantle.    Illustrated 

by  C.  M.  Relyea. 

The  wild  free  life  of  an  Oregon  lumber  camp  furnishes  the  setting  for  this 
strong  original  story.  Gret  is  the  daughter  of  the  camp  and  isutterly  con- 
tent with  the  wild  life— until  love  comes.  A  fine  book,  unmarred  by  con- 
vention. 

OLD  CHESTER   TALES.     By  Margaret  D eland.     Illustrated 
by  Howard  Pyle. 

A  vivid  yet  delicate  portrayal  of  characters  in  an  old  New  England  town. 

Dr.  Lavendar's  fine,  kindly  wisdom  is  brought  to  bear  upon  the  lives  of 
all,  permeating  the  whole  volume  like  the  pungent  odor  of  pine,  healthful 
and  life  giving.  "  Old  Chester  Tales  "  will  surely  be  among  the  books  that 
abide. 

THE  MEMOIRS  OF  A  BABY.    By  Josephine  Daskara.    Illus- 
trated by  F.  Y.  Cory. 

The  dawning  intelligence  of  the  baby  was  grappled  with  by  its  great  aunt, 
an  elderly  maiden,  whose  book  knowledge  ofbapies  was  something  at  which 
even  the  infant  himself  winked.  A  delicious  bit  of  humor. 

REBECCA  MARY.      By  Annie  Hamilton  Donnell.      Illustrated 

by  Elizabeth  Shippen  Green. 

The  heart  tragedies  of  this  little  girl  with  no  one  near  to  share  them,  are 
told  with  a  delicate  art,  a  keen  appreciation  of  the  needs  of  the  childish 
heart  and  a  humorous  knowledge  of  the  workings  of  the  childish  mind. 

THE  FLY  ON  THE  WHEEL.    By  Katherine  Cecil  Thurston. 

Frontispiece  by  Harrison  Fisher. 

An  Irish  story  of  real  power,  perfect  in  development  and  showing  a  true 
conception  of  the  spirited  Hibernian  character  as  displayed  in  the  tragic  as 
well  as  the  tender  phases  of  We. 

THE  MAN  FROM  BRODNEY'S.    By  George  BarrMcCutch eon. 

Illustrated  by  Harrison  Fisher. 
An  island  in  the  South  Sea  is  the  setting  for  this  entertaining  tale,  and 

an  all-conquering  hero  and  a  beautiful  princess  figure  in  a  most  complicated 

plot.    One  of  Mr.  McCutcheon's  best  books. 

TOLD  BY  UNCLE  REMUS.    By  Joel  Chandler  Harris.    Illus- 
trated by  A.  B.  Frost,  J.  M.  Conde  and  Frank  Verbeck. 
Again  Uncle  Remus  enters  the  fields  of  childhood,  and  leads  another 

little  boy  to  that  non-locatable  land  called  "  Brer    Rabbit's   Laughing 

Place,"  and  again  the  quaint  animals  spring  into  active  life  and  play  theii 

parts,  for  the  edification  of  a  small  but  appreciative  audience. 

THE  CLIMBER.    By  E.  F.  Benson.     With  frontispiece. 

An  unsparing  analysis  of  an  ambitious  woman's  soul— a  woman  who 

believed  that  in  social  supremacy  she  would  find  happiness,  and  who  finds 

instead  the  utter  despair  of  one  who  has  chosen  the  things  that  pass  away. 

LYNCH'S  DAUGHTER.    By  Leonard  Merrick.    Illustrated  by 

Geo.  Brehm. 


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A  Few  that  are  Making  Theatrical  History 

MARY  JANE'S  PA.    By  Norman  Way.    Illustrated  with  scenes 

from  the  play. 

Delightfu' ,  irresponsible  "  Mary  Jane's  Pa  "  awakes  one  morning  to  find 
himselt  famous,  and,  genius  being  ill  adapted  to  domestic  ioys,  he  wanders 
from  horn*-,  to  work  out  his  own  unique  destiny.  One  of  the  most  humorous 
bits  of  recent  fiction. 

CHERUB  DEVINE.    By  Sewell  Ford 

"  Cherub,"  a  good  hearted  but  not  over  refined  young  man  is  brought  in 
touch  with  the  aristocracy.  Of  sprightly  wit,  he  is  sometimes  a  merciless 
analyst,  but  he  proves  in  the  end  that  manhood  counts  for  more  than  anci- 
ent lineage  by  winning  the  love  of  the  fairest  girl  in  the  flock, 

A  WOMAN'S  WAY.     By  Charles  Somerville.    Illustrated  with 

scenes  from  the  play. 

A  story  in  which  a  woman's  wit  and  self-sacrificing  love  save  her  husband 
from  the  toils  of  an  adventuress,  and  change  an  apparently  tragic  situation 
into  one  of  delicious  comedy. 

THE  CLIMAX.    By  George  C.  Jenks. 

With  ambition  luring  her  on,  a  young  choir  soprano  leaves  the  little  village 
vhere  she  was  born  and  the  limited  audience  of  St.  Tude's  to  train  for  the 
opera  in  New  York.  She  leaves  love  behind  her  and  meets  love  more  ardent 
but  not  more  sincere  in  her  new  environment.  How  she  works,  how  she 
studies,  how  she  suffers,  are  vividly  portrayed. 

A  FOOL  THERE  WAS.     By  Porter  Emerson  Browne.     Illus- 
trated by  Edmund  Magrath  and  W.  W.  Fawcett. 
A  relentless  portrayal  of  the  career  of  a  man  who  C9mes  under  the  influence 
of  a  beautiful  but  evil  woman ;  how  she  lures  him  on  and  on,  how  he 
struggles,  falls  and  rises,  only  to  fall  again  into  her  net,  make  a  story  of 
unflinching  realism. 

THE  SQUAW   MAN.     By  Julie  Opp  Faversham  and  Edwin 

Milton  Royle.    Illustrated  with  scenes  from  the  play. 
A  glowing  story,  rapid  in  action,  bright  in  dialogue  with  a  fine  courageous 
hero  and  a  beautiful  English  heroine, 

THE  GIRL  IN  WAITING.     By  Archibald  Eyre.     Illustrated 

with  scenes  from  the  play. 

A  droll  little  comedy  of  misunderstandings,  told  with  a  light  touch,  a  ven 
turesome  spirit  and  an  eye  for  human  oddities. 

THE   SCARLET    PIMPERNEL.     By  Baroness  Orczy.     Illus- 

trated  with  scenes  from  the  play. 

A  realistic  story  of  the  days  of  the  French  Revolution,  abounding  in 
dramatic  incident,  with  a  young  English  soldier  of  fortune,  daring,  mysteri- 
ous as  the  hero. 

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CY  WHITTAKER'S  PLACE.     By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Illustrated  by  Wallace  Morgan. 

A  Cape  Cod  story  describing  the  amusing  efforts  of  an  el- 
derly bachelor  and  his  two  cronies  to  rear  and  educate  a  little 
girl.  Full  of  honest  fun — a  rural  drama. 

THE  FORGE  IN  THE  FOREST.    By  Charles  G.  D. 
Roberts.     Illustrated  by  H.  Sandham. 

A  story  of  the  conflict  in  Acadia  after  its  conquest  by  the 
British.  A  dramatic  picture  that  lives  and  shines  with  the  in- 
definable charm  of  poetic  romance. 

A  SISTER  TO  EVANGELINE.      By   Charles  G.  D 
Roberts.    Illustrated  by  E.  McConnell. 

Being  the  story  of  Yvonne  de  Lamourie,  and  how  she  went 
into  exile  with  the  villagers  of  Grand  Pre.  ^  Swift  action, 
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ing analysis  characterize  this  strong  novel. 
THE  OPENED  SHUTTERS.  By  Clara  Louise  Burn- 
ham.  Frontispiece  by  Harrison  Fisher. 

A  summer  haunt  on  an  island  in  Casco  Bay  is  the  back- 
ground for  this  romance.  A  beautiful  woman,  at  discord  with 
>ife,  is  brought  to  realize,  by  her  new  friends,  that  she  may 
open  the  shutters  of  her  soul  to  the  blessed  sunlight  of  joy  by 
casting  aside  vanity  and  self  love.  A  delicately  humorous 
work  with  a  lofty  motive  underlying  it  all. 
THE  RIGHT  PRINCESS.  By  Clara  Louise  Burnham. 

An  amusing  story,  opening  at  a  fashionable  Long  Island  re- 
tort, where  a  stately  Englishwoman  employs  a  forcible  New 
England  housekeeper  to  serve  in  her  interesting  home.  How 
types  so  widely  apart  react  on  each  others'  lives,  all  to  ulti- 
mate good,  makes  a  story  both  humorous  and  rich  in  sentiment. 

THE  LEAVEN  OF  LOVE.    By  Clara  Louise   Burn- 

harn.  Frontispiece  by  Harrison  Fisher. 
At  a  Southern  California  resort  a  world-weary  woman,  young 
and  beautiful  but  disillusioned,  meets  a  girl  who  has  learned 
the  art  of  living — of  tasting  life  in  all  its  richness,  opulence  and 
joy.  The  story  hinges  upon  the  change  wrought  in  the  soul 
of  the  blase  woman  by  this  glimpse  into  a  cheery  life." 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26th  ST.,  NEW  YORK 


A  FEW  OF 

GROSSET   &   DUNLAP'S 
Great  Books  at  Little  Prices 

QUINCY    ADAMS    SAWYER.      A  Picture  of  New 
England  Home  Life.     With  illustrations  by  C.  W 
Reed,  and  Scenes  Reproduced  from  the  Play. 
One  of  the  best  New  England  stories  ever  written.    It  is 
full  of  homely  human  interest  *  *  *  there  is  a  wealth  of  New 
England  village  character,  scenes  and  incidents  *  *  *  forcibly, 
vividly  and  truthfully  drawn.    Few  books  have  enjoyed  a 
greater  sale  and  popularity.     Dramatized,  it  made  the  great- 
est rural  play  of  recent  times. 

THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES  OF  QUINCY 
ADAMS  SAWYER.  By  Charles  Felton  Pidgin. 
Illustrated  by  Henry  Roth. 

All  who  love  honest  sentiment,  quaint  and  sunny  humorv 
and  homespun  philosophy  will  find  these  "  Further  Adven- 
tures" a  book  after  their  own  heart. 

HALF  A  CHANCE.     By  Frederic   S.  Isham.      Illus- 

trated  by  Herman  Pfeifer. 

The  thrill  of  excitement  will  keep  the  reader  in  a  state  of 
suspense,  and  he  will  become  personally  concerned  from  the 
start,  as  to  the  central  character,  a  very  real  man  who  suffers, 
dares — and  achieves! 

VIRGINIA    OF    THE    AIR    LANES.    By    Herbert 

Quick.     Illustrated  by  William  R.  Leigh. 
The  author  has  seized  the  romantic  moment  for  the  airship 
novel,  and  created  the  pretty  story  of  "  a  lover  and  his  lass  " 
contending  with  an  elderly  relative  for  the  monopoly  of  the 
skies.    An  exciting  tale  of  adventure  in  midair. 

THE  GAME  AND  THE  CANDLE.     By  Eleanor  M, 

Ingram.     Illustrated  by  P.  D.  Johnson. 
The  hero  is  a  young  American,  who,  to  save  his  family  fron_ 
poverty,  deliberately  commits  a  felony.    Then  follow  his  cap- 
ture and  imprisonment,  and  his  rescue  by  a  Russian  Grand 
Duke.    A  stirring  story,  rich  in  sentiment. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26th  ST.,  NEW  YORK. 


A  FEW  OF 

GROSSET   &   DUNLAP'S 
Great  Books  at  Little  Prices 

BRUVVER  JIM'S  BABY.     By  Philip  Verrill  Mighels. 

An  uproariously  funny  story  of  a  tiny  mining  settlement  in  the 
West,  which  is  shaken  to  the  very  roots  by  the  suddenpossession 
of  a  baby,  found  on  the  plains  by  one  of  its  residents.  The  town  is 
as  disreputable  a  spot  as  the  gold  fever  was  ever  responsible  for, 
and  the  coming  of  that  baby  causes  the  upheaval  of  every  rooted 
tradition  of  the  place.  Its  christening,  the  problems  of  its  toys  and 
its  illness  supersede  in  the  minds  of  the  miners  all  thought  of  earthy 
treasure. 

THE  FURNACE  OF  GOLD.  By  Philip  Verrill  Mighels, 
author  of  "  Bruyver  Jim's  Baby."  Illustrations  by  J.  N. 
Marchand. 

An  accurate  and  informing  portrayal  of  scenes,  types,  and  condi- 
tions of  the  mining  districts  in  modern  Nevada. 

The  book  is  an  out-door  story,  clean,  exciting,  exemplifying  no- 
bility and  courage  of  character,  and  bravery,  and  heroism  in  the  sort 
of  men  and  women  we  all  admire  and  wish  to  know. 

THE  MESSAGE.  By  Louis  Tracy.  Illustrations  by  Joseph 
C.  Chase. 

A  breezy  tale  of  how  a  bit  of  old  parchment,  concealed  in  a  figure- 
head from  a  sunken  vessel,  comes  into  the  possession  of  a  pretty 
girl  and  an  army  man  during  regatta  week  in  the  Isle  of  Wight. 
This  is  the  message  and  it  enfolds  a  mystery,  the  development  of 
which  the  reader  will  follow  with  breathless  interest. 
THE  SCARLET  EMPIRE.  By  David  M.  Parry.  Illus- 
trations by  Hermann  C.  Wall. 

A  young  socialist,  weary  of  life,  plunges  into  the  sea  and  awakes 
in  the  lost  island  of  Atlantis,  known  as  the  Scarlet  Empire,  where 
a  social  democracy  is  in  full  operation,  granting  every  man  a  living 
but  limiting  food,  conversation,  education  and  marriage. 

The  hero  passes  through  an  enthralling  love  affair  and  other  ad- 
ventures but  finally  returns  to  his  own  New  York  world, 
THE  THIRD  DEGREE.    By  Charles  Klein  and  Arthur 
Hornblow.     Illustrations  by  Clarence  Rowe. 

A  novel  which  exposes  the  abuses  in  this  country  of  the  police 
system. 

The  son  of  an  aristocratic  New  York  family  marries  a  woman 
socially  beneath  him,  but  of  strong,  womanly  qualities  that,  later 
on,  save  the  man  from  the  tragic  consequences  of  a  dissipated  life. 

The  wife  believes  in  his  innocence  and  her  wit  and  good  sense 
help  her  to  win  against  the  tremendous  odds  imposed  by  law. 

THE  THIRTEENTH  DISTRICT.  By  Brand  Whitlock. 
A  realistic  western  story  of  love  and  politics  and  a  searching  study 
of  their  influence  on  character.  The  author  shows  with  extraordi- 
nary vitality  of  treatment  the  tricks,  the  heat,  the  passion,  the  tu- 
mult of  the  political  arena,  the  triumph  and  strength  of  love. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26th  ST.,  NEW  YORK 


A  FEW  OF 

GROSSET   &   DUNLAP'S 
Great  Books  at  Little  Prices 

THE  MUSIC  MASTER.    By  Charles  Klein.      Illustrated 

by  John  Rae. 

This  marvelously  vivid  narrative  turns  upon  the  search  of  a  Ger- 
man musician  in  .New  York  for  his  little  daughter.  Mr.  Klein  has 
well  portrayed  his  pathetic  struggle  with  poverty,  his  varied  expe- 
riences in  endeavoring  to  meet  the  demands  of  a  public  not  trained 
to  an  appreciation  of  the  classic,  and  his  final  great  hour  when,  in 
the  rapidly  shifting  events  of  a  big  city,  his  little  daughter,  now  a 
beautiful  young  woman,  is  brought  to  his  very  door.  A  superb  bit 
of  fiction,  palpitating  with  the  life  of  the  great  metropolis.  The 
play  in  which  David  Warfi  eld  scored  his  highest  success. 

DR.    LAVENDAR'S    PEOPLE.      By    Margaret   Deland. 

Illustrated  by  Lucius  Hitchcock. 

Mrs.  Deland  won  so  many  friends  through  Old  Chester  Tales 
that  this  volume  needs  no  introduction  beyond  its  title.  The  lova- 
ble doctor  is  more  ripened  in  this  later  book,  and  the  simple  come- 
dies and  tragedies  of  the  old  village  are  told  with  dramatic  charm. 

OLD  CHESTER  TALES.  By  Margaret  Deland.  Illustrated 
by  Howard  Pyle. 

Stories  portraying  with  delightful  humor  and  pathos  a  quaint  peo- 
ple in  a  sleepy  old  town.  Dr.  Lavendar,  a  very  human  and  lovable 
*'  preacher,"  vs  the  connecting  link  between  these  dramatic  stories 
from  life. 

HE  FELL  IN  LOVE  WITH  HIS  WIFE.    By  E.  P.  Roe, 
With  frontispiece. 

The  hero  is  a  farmer — a  man  with  honest,  sincere  views  of  life. 
Bereft  of  his  wife,  his  home  is  cared  for  by  a  succession  of  domes- 
tics of  varying  degrees  of  inefficiency  until,  from  a  most  unpromis- 
ing source,  comes  a  young  woman  who  not  only  becomes  his  wife 
but  commands  his  respect  and  eventually  wins  his  love.  A  bright 
and  delicate  romance,  revealing  on  both  sides  a  love  that  surmounts 
all  difficulties  and  survives  the  censure  of  friends  as  well  as  the  bit- 
terness of  enemies. 
THE  YOKE.  By  Elizabeth  MiUer. 

Against  the  historical  background  of  the  days  when  the  children 
of  Israel  were  delivered  from  the  bondage  of  Egypt,  the  author  has 
sketched  a  romance  of  compelling  charm.  A  biblical  novel  as  great 
as  any  since  "  Ben  Hur." 

SAUL  OF  TARSUS.    By  Elizabeth  Miller.    Illustrated  by 
Andre*  Castaigne. 

The  scenes  of  this  story  are  laid  in  Jerusalem,  Alexandria,  Rome 
and  Damascus.  The  Apostle  Paul,  the  Martyr  Stephen,  Herod 
Agrippa  and  the  Emperors  Tiberius  and  Caligula  are  among  the 
mighty  figures  that  move  through  the  pages.  Wonderful  descrip- 
tions, and  a  love  story  of  the  purest  and  noblest  type  mark  this 
most  remarkable  religious  romance. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26th  ST.,  NEW  YORK 


GROSSET  &    DUNLAP'S 

DRAMATIZED  NOVELS 

Original,  sincere  and  courageous — often  amusing — the 
kind  that  are  making  theatrical  history. 

MADAME  X.     By  Alexandra  Bisson  and  J.  W.  McCon- 
aughy.      Illustrated    with    scenes    from    the    play. 
A  beautiful  Parisienne  became  an  outcast  because  her  hus- 
band would  not  forgive  an  error  of  her  youth.     Her  love  for 
her  son  is  the  great  final  influence  in  her  career.    A  tremen- 
dous dramatic  success. 

THE  GARDEN  OF  ALLAH.     By  Robert  Hichens. 

An  unconventional  English  woman  and  an  inscrutable 
stranger  meet  and  love  in  an  oasis  of  the  Sahara.  Staged 
this  season  with  magnificent  cast  and  gorgeous  properties. 

THE  PRINCE  OF  INDIA.     By  Lew.  Wallace. 

A  glowing  romance  of  the  Byzantine  Empire,  presenting 
with  extraordinary  power  the  siege  of  Constantinople,  and 
lighting  its  tragedy  with  the  warm  underglow  of  an  Oriental 
romance.  As  a  play  it  is  a  great  dramatic  spectacle. 

TESS   OF    THE    STORM    COUNTRY.      By  Grace 
Miller  White.     Illust.  by  Howard  Chandler  Christy. 
A  girl  from  the  dregs  of  society,  loves  a  young  Cornell  Uni- 
versity student,  and  it  works  startling  changes  in  her  life  and 
the  lives  of  those  about  her.    The  dramatic  version  is  one  of 
the  sensations  of  the  season. 

YOUNG    WALLINGFORD.      By  George    Randolph 

Chester.     Illust.  by  F.  R.  Gruger  and  Henry  Raleigh. 

A  series  of  clever  swindles  conducted  by  a  cheerful  young 

man,  each  of  which  is  just  on  the  safe  side  of  a  State's  prison 

offence.    As   "Get-Rich-Quick  Wallingford,"  it  is  probably 

the  most  amusing  expose  of  money  manipulation  ever  seen 

on  the  stage. 

THE  INTRUSION   OF  JIMMY.     By  P.  G.  Wode- 

house.     Illustrations  by  Will  Grefe. 
Social  and  club  life  in  London  and  New  York,  an  amateur 
burglary  adventure  and  a  love  story.     Dramatized  under  the 
title   of  "A   Gentleman  of   Leisure,"  it  furnishes  hours  of 
laughter  to  the  play-goers. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26th  ST.,  NEW  YORK 


TITLES    SELECTED   FROM 

GROSSET    &    DUNLAP'S    LIST 

REALISTIC,  ENGAGING  PICTURES  OF  LIFE 

THE  GARDEN  OF  FATE.  By  Roy  Norton.  Illustrated 

by  Joseph  Clement  Coll. 

The  colorful  romance  of  an  American  girl  in  Morocco,  and 
of  a  beautiful  garden,  whose  beauty  and  traditions  of  strange 
subtle  happenings  were  closed  to  the  world  by  a  Sultan's  seal. 

THE  MAN  HIGHER  UP.     By  Henry  Russell  Miller. 

Full  page  vignette  illustrations  by  M.  Leone  Bracker. 

The  story  of  a  tenement  waif  who  rose  by  his  own  ingenuity 

to  the  office  of  mayor  of  his  native  city.     His  experiences 

while  "climbing,"  make  a  most  interesting  example  of  the 

possibilities  of  human  nature  to  rise  above  circumstances 

THE  KEY  TO  YESTERDAY.      By  Charles  Neville 
Buck.     Illustrated  by  R.  Schabelitz. 

Robert  Saxon,  a  prominent  artist,  has  an  accident,  while  in 
Paris,  which  obliterates  his  memory,  and  the  only  clue  he  has 
to  his  former  life  is  a  rusty  key.  What  door  in  Paris  will  it 
unlock?  He  must  know  that  before  he  woos  the  girl  he  loves. 

THE  DANGER  TRAIL.     By  James  Oliver  Curwood. 

Illustrated  by  Charles  Livingston  Bull. 
The  danger  trail  is  over  the  snow-smothered  North.     A 
young  Chicago  engineer,  who  is  building  a  road  through  the 
Hudson  Bay  region,  is  involved  in  mystery,  and  is  led  into 
ambush  by  a  young  woman. 

THE  GAY  LORD  WARING.     By  Houghton  Townley. 

Illustrated  by  Will  Grefe. 

A  story  of  the  smart  hunting  set  in  England.  A  gay  young 
lord  wins  in  love  against  his  selfish  and  cowardly  brother  and 
apparently  against  fate  itself. 

BY  INHERITANCE.     By  Octave  Thanet.     Illustrated 

by  Thomas  Fogarty.     Elaborate  wrapper  in  colors. 

A  wealthy  New  England  spinster  with  the  most  elaborate 

Elans  for  the  education  of  the  negro  goes  to  visit  her  nephew 
i  Arkansas,  where  she  learns  the  needs  of  the  colored  race 
first  hand  and  begins  to  lose  her  theories. 


GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26th  ST.,  NEW  YORK 


14  DAY  USE 

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General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


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THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


